Songbirds and Bombshells
by BouncingKappa
Summary: World War II brought all kinds of people together. Bucky Barnes was a sharpshooter with no big plans for himself except to live through the war and reunite with his best friend, Steve Rogers. But he hadn't planned on Nurse Sadie Reid, a stick of dynamite disguised by red lipstick. Falling in love in the middle of a war wasn't ideal, but it was the best they had. Follows CA:TFA.
1. Meetings and Marching Orders

**A/N: Hello! So I finally decided to try my hand at a CA fic. I'm sort of using it as a vehicle to practice some character development and consistency. Also, I just really wanted to write a historical romance.**

 **So, I've been doing quite a bit of research on WWII and I hope that comes through in the details of this story, particularly related to the military. I've bent a few of the facts and will continue to do so because part of Marvel's cinematic timeline does not match with the actual timeline of WWII. But I figure it's a fanfic…so that's okay. If you do notice some glaring historical inaccuracies, please let me know though!**

 **In the meantime, hope you like this! It's going to be a semi-slow burn, taking place over the grand landscape of the Italian Campaign and Bucky's time with the Howling Commandos.**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own anything affiliated with the Marvel universe. I also do not own Guiness or Band-Aid. I do however, own Sadie and her giggling friends.**

Chapter One – Meetings and Marching Orders

A cloud of smoke created a haze in the entryway of _Donovan's_. Already the bar was packed to the gills with patrons, a mix of civilian and military alike. Drab green uniforms clashed against dark suits, white shirts, and floral print dresses. Dark wood paneled the walls, lined with the dings and dents from bar fights, bets gone awry, and years of loving use. Lazy piano music drifted from the back, carrying forward, barely audible over the din of the crowd.

Bucky Barnes stood in the doorway, a wide grin stretching across his face. After weeks of training and waiting in a shithole barrack in Camp Kilmer, he was back in Brooklyn where he belonged. Free for four days of leave before reporting to receive his orders, he straightened his tie and marched into the bar with purpose. In the grand scheme of things for days and nights was nothing and Bucky intended to soak up every second of his precious last hours in Brooklyn before shipping out to God-only-knew-where for God-only-knew-how-long to do God-only-knew-what. Determined not to let that show he cut his way through the crowd, looking for his company for the evening.

The grin on his face stretched wider, if possible. True to his word, Steve Rogers had managed to stretch his tiny figure out just enough to save an extra spot at the bar. A full pint of Guinness was already waiting, calling to Bucky like a siren to a sailor. Steve spotted him as he broke through the snarled knot of a crowd and he smiled broadly.

"Still haven't grown an inch, have you?" Bucky said by way of greeting as Steve got to his feet. Throwing pretense to the wind, Bucky pulled Steve into a bear hug, thumping him hard on the back.

"And you're still a jerk," replied Steve, repeating Bucky's actions.

"It's good to see you! How's life been treating you?" They separated and Bucky dropped onto a barstool.

"Same ole', same ole'," said Steve and he held up his pint glass to Bucky. Clinking the pints together, Bucky tipped his head to his best friend before taking a long draw of his beer. He stared at his pint with new appreciation, after going months without a good drink he now knew the full value of what he'd been missing out on. "How was Camp Kilmer?"

It was almost impossible not to hear the jealousy dripping from Steve's voice. Shifting uncomfortably in his stool, Bucky shrugged. "More tactical training, more mind-numbing lessons on map-reading, hand signals, language, customs. God awful food and not nearly enough pretty girls," he said and leaned back to watch a petite blonde cross the scarce open space, only to join her date for the evening.

Slowly, Steve nodded and stared pensively into his drink. Bucky fought the urge to roll his eyes. If brooding over the impossible were an art, Steve would have long perfected it by now. "Well it's better than kicking around here."

Now Bucky did roll his eyes. Dropping a firm hand on Steve's shoulder, he squeezed it. "Being one of the last few single guys in a city full of gorgeous women? I beg to differ my friend. Besides, I haven't seen you in months and all you wanna talk about is the shitty food at Camp Kilmer?"

Steven cracked the ghost of a smile and Bucky shook him by the shoulder, trying to imbue some cheer into him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Steve. Both of them watched a couple of girls at a nearby table, gossiping over the tops of their glasses. One of them eyed Bucky and he flashed a winning smile. "Not even back five minutes and you're already lining up tomorrow's date."

Chuckling, Bucky watched as the young girl turned a brilliant shade of red and giggled wildly, turning to her friend. Deciding to put the charm on her friend and broker a way into conversation with both of them, he offered a smile for the other girl, only to be met by a harsh gaze. Shaking his head, he turned away and refocused his attention on Steve. "Not if her friend is giving us the evil eye. I can't go off and leave you to the wolves. Besides, she's not my type anyway."

Steve snorted in unamused laughter. " _You_ have a type? Aside from beautiful and breathing?"

Bucky groaned and slapped his hands on the bar, drumming his palms on the lacquered surface. Pointing an accusatory finger at Steve, he grinned. "Yeah, you're a real riot, Rogers. One of these days I'm gonna be the one to take you out back and beat you up."

His cheek did the trick and Steve laughed, finally relaxing. They'd been this way since Bucky could remember. At some point in their relationship it became obvious that Bucky had raced ahead, but he'd been determined to never leave Steve behind. And so they were the way they were, Steve indulged in self-deprecating comments and Bucky verbally knocked sense into him.

"Hey, I wasn't the one with a different girl every week in high school."

"It wasn't every week. Besides, the odds are about to stack way in your favor."

"You know what I think?" Said Steve after he swallowed the last of his pint and slid the empty glass across the bar, motioning to the bartender for two more. "I think one of these days you're going to meet a girl you can't charm and you're going to fall hook, line, and sinker for her."

Bucky tossed his head back and laughed. "You're so full of it," he said.

But Steve could not be dissuaded. "Just you wait, she's gonna strike you like lightning."

For a few minutes everything in the world was right. Bucky could pretend that he wasn't going to receive his orders any day now. For just a few days he could act like going to war didn't terrify him to no end. Just for now he could spend the night getting drunk with his best friend, reliving memories and making up for lost time.

"How about you meet Mrs. Steve Rogers first and show me how it's done."

Steve laughed and shook his head. "Speaking of women that probably don't exist."

The bartender brought over two fresh pints and Bucky lifted his aloft. "Well, then, I propose a toast to the non-existent future Mrs. Rogers and Barnes."

They clinked their glasses and descended into the night's madness.

X X X

Three days later, Bucky woke with a pounding head. He smelled like he'd bathed in Irish whiskey and cigarette smoke, an unfortunate byproduct of being drug to one of the largest dance halls in the city. Last night's date, Holly, wanted to meet up with her other friends, all of whom had managed to wrangle soldiers of their own for the evening. The end result found Bucky sitting with a group of enlisteds with their heads shoved where the sun didn't shine, talking tall about all the Nazis they were going to kill, right up to Hitler's front door. Given that his date had unceremoniously dumped him for her giggling friends, Bucky found his only other recourse was to get rip-roaring drunk and stumble home at an ungodly hour.

Groaning, he rolled over in bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. Outside of his half-open window, he could hear the sounds of the city. New York would always be bustling, no matter the time or season. Bucky lay still for several minutes, wondering how long it would be before he was back in Brooklyn for good. He checked the time on his wrist-watch, he had just enough time to shower up and eat before reporting to the New York Port of Embarkation for a final physical and his orders.

"Hey!" A voice from the doorway alerted Bucky that he was not alone.

Steve stood there, straightening his wide tie.

"What?" He groaned.

"Get up, I'll buy lunch."

The prospect of free food was enough to get Bucky up and moving. A hot shower did wonders to assuage his pounding headache. Bucky stood under the running water for a long time. It could be several months until his next shower.

For days now Bucky had spent his time trying to enjoy the little luxuries of life. At the same time he found himself agonizing over what he would be giving up. No more hot showers, no more good food, no more bed. These things he could do without. But the prospect of terrible coffee and no beautiful women for months on end? Now that was his idea of miserable.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky found himself staring at the mirror over his small dresser in his small apartment. Grimacing, he pulled at the collar of his drab olive shirt. He was required to wear his Class A's only to be forced to strip down for his final exam and then dress back up again to receive his orders. The entire system seemed grossly inefficient. Tilting his head to the side, Bucky examined his reflection. Loathe as he was to admit it, the uniform made him look good, respectable even. He stood a little straighter in his jacket and adjusted the belt that made his shoulders look broader than they actually were.

"Wow, you almost look like an upstanding citizen," remarked Steve from the doorway of Bucky's room. He was agitated, Bucky didn't even have to turn around to look at Steve to know. Jealousy practically permeated the air and continued to forge and even large chasm between them. On the one or two occasions where Bucky imagined what could possibly drive a wedge in their friendship, he always figured it would be a woman or a job that would take one of them away from Brooklyn. Never in a hundred years did Bucky imagine that the Goddamn army would be the culprit of their current predicament.

" _Almost_ ," noted Bucky.

He picked up his peaked cap and set it atop his head, straight as an arrow. It looked all wrong, too respectable. Carefully he tilted it off to the side, giving him a nice devil-may-care aura.

"Come on Sarge, let's go get something to eat before you fall in love with your own reflection."

Two hours later, Bucky strode into the large medical pavilion at the NYPOE. Tomorrow morning he would return here for a completely different reason. In the distance he could already see the massive troopships awaiting the thousands of soldiers in New York. Many of them were luxury cruise liners, repainted and repurposed for the cheerful job of carrying America's finest to war. In the morning he would be on one of those ships, headed to battle and praying to God that the guy in the foxhole next to him wasn't a total idiot.

But that was tomorrow.

"Name?" Bucky's legs had carried him to the initial check-in point without his realizing it.

"James Barnes." Bucky used his real name so seldom it sounded almost foreign on his tongue.

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, report to waiting area five for your medical exam. A nurse will give you further instruction after." Bucky nodded stiffly to the attendant and he walked off, down a main thoroughfare to waiting area five.

Bucky had never been on a ranch, but he imagined a cattle drive had to be similar to the way the army herded men from point A to point B. Several rows of chairs were contained in his designated waiting area, the seats sporadically filled with other enlisted men. He didn't even want to know how old some of them were, they looked like kids in his eyes. Not that twenty-six was that old, there was still a lot of living he wanted to do.

Ahead of the waiting area he could see several rolling partitions had been linked together, forming a continuous row of small private examination spaces. A small desk sat outside each space, stacked high with charts, one for each soldier. Bucky's eyes wandered to the individuals manning each station. A lazy smile tugged at his lips.

 _Nurses_.

God's gift to soldiers everywhere.

He tried to get a good look at the nurses performing examinations in his area. A few blondes milled about the area, but none of them caught his eye. Bucky had never been one for blondes.

"Goddamn, get a load of her," muttered a guy next to him.

"Huh?" Asked Bucky stupidly.

"The blonde right over there." The guy pointed to a petite nurse with carefully pinned blonde curls, cherry red lips and a perfect hourglass shape. "What a knockout. If I was her man I'd never let her out of my sight."

But Bucky wasn't even paying attention to the blonde. His eyes slipped to the right and his mouth dropped open by a tiny fraction. The blonde was a distant memory in comparison to her companion. Bucky had always been partial to brunettes and this nurse was no exception to the rule. From a distance Bucky drank in the woman's rich chocolate brown hair, pulled into a chignon at the nape of her neck, perfectly curled beneath her pristine white cap. She too wore bright red lipstick, highlighting her full bottom lip. Perhaps her cheekbones were a fraction high and her chin too stubborn for true beauty, but Buck would be damned if he wasn't mesmerized by her brilliant grey eyes.

"Her friend's not so bad either," he said slowly.

The brunette nurse smiled at something her blonde friend said and Bucky's heart started thudding hard in his chest. "Jesus Christ, why don't they put their pictures in the brochures? Men would be falling all over themselves to join up."

"No kidding."

X X X

"So what happened after that?" Betty Parsons asked, hanging on the every word of her companion Evelyn Thompson.

"Oh, he put on the big song and dance about leaving for war without a sweetheart of his own. I let him go on for a couple more dances and got another sidecar out of the deal before I split to meet up with you again." Betty giggled wildly, sending a few sprays of her blonde curls everywhere.

"You're awful, don't you think so, Sadie?"

"Hmm?" Sadie Reid asked, tearing her full attention from the stack of charts she'd yet to get through. With Betty and Evelyn gossiping at the station next to hers it was almost impossible to concentrate. Already the afternoon as growing late and a fresh wave of soldiers were awaiting their medical exams and vaccinations before receiving their orders to ship out.

"Last night? Evelyn's impromptu date?"

Sadie snorted in unattractive laughter. When did Evelyn not have a date? Her perfectly curled red hair and perfect hourglass frame attracted men like a beacon. "Well, he probably deserved it," she said, knowing from experience that Evelyn also tended to attract a certain brand of idiot.

"Awh Sade you're just saying that. He was pretty cute though," said Evelyn and shrugged.

"I'm sure you'll find a better replacement tonight," she said, prompting another round of wicked laughter from her friends. A vague smile tugged at her lips. "At least do the next one a favor and buy your own drinks."

Sadie raised a hand to check that her white nurses' hat was still pinned securely in place. She would have loved for nothing more than to spend the remainder of the fine afternoon outside, soaking the warm afternoon. But relaxation would have to wait. Instead she stuck her hand in the pocket of her white dress and rubbed her thumb over the medal of Saint Agatha. Her father had given her the silver medallion when she'd been accepted to nursing school.

Betty sorted her charts and turned the conversation to the World Fair tonight. Betty and Evelyn were gravely concerned about whether they should wear their hair up or down. Sadie gave her opinions when necessary before re-directing their attention to work. Evelyn scuttled back to her station to begin her next round of exams. Each man needed a simple physical and any vaccines he hadn't already received. Betty let out an exaggerated sigh, but Sadie grabbed the first of her charts, happy to at least have a full afternoon of work to dive into.

"Did you know I saw in the papers that Howard Stark is going to be putting on an exhibition tonight," said Betty. Sadie cast a sideways glance to her friend. "He's so handsome in all his pictures in the paper."

"Well, maybe if we get finished in time we'll be able to make it before Evie drags us to the Carriage Club or wherever she thinks her prospects are best."

"Yours too, you know it wouldn't kill you to go out with someone too."

Sadie chuckled. "You know how I feel about dating soldiers."

"I know, I know you've said it a hundred times. You didn't join the army to end up an army wife."

Sadie looked out at the men sitting in several rows of chairs at their designated check-in area. Each one of them was dressed down to their drab green slacks and white undershirts, dog tags shining on their chests. The strings of Sadie's heart pulled as she evaluated their faces. They were all so young, many of them younger than her own tender twenty-three years. Pursing her lips, she pushed the thought from her mind and looked down at the name on her first file.

"Hopkins, Roger!" She called out.

A young man stood, his back ramrod straight. Sadie stared at the picture on the file to compare, examining his coif of curly black hair and shining brown eyes. Opening his chart, she felt her chest deflate. He was only nineteen. "If you don't mind."

"Of course not, ma'am," he said and strode forward, chest thrown out. Sadie found that she often liked the youngest recruits the best. Usually they were too scared or too close to their mothers to disrespect the nurses the way the older non-commissioned officers did. Private Roger Hopkins walked behind the rolling dividers that joined up to form the small examination space that Sadie used to get through each physical.

"Have a seat Mr. Hopkins," she gestured to the examination table. Private Hopkins obliged her request, thus beginning another long afternoon.

By the time four in the afternoon rolled around, Sadie was in desperate need of either a cup of coffee or a drink, she couldn't exactly tell which. Her back was stiff from standing for so long and her feet ached in the white shoes given to the nursing staff. If she had to endure another cheeky comment about how if all the nurses looked like her then war wasn't so bad, Sadie was going to pull her hair out. Wearily, she glanced at the next file. Another Sergeant.

"Barnes, James!"

Nobody stood immediately, piquing Sadie's attention and irritation.

"Barnes! James!" She shouted over the din of the pavilion.

At length a young man lifted his chin. His eyes found her and almost immediately the corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin, revealing straight white teeth. Rising to his feet, Sadie's annoyance only grew as he walked—no, swaggered—over to her, taking his sweet time. A too-innocent light gleamed in his blue eyes, set over devastating cheekbones. Oh, he was handsome alright, thought Sadie. And he knew it. Confidence bordering on arrogance practically exuded from him, as he shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled up to Sadie, not even bothering to hide the way his eyes took a casual flick from the top of her head down to her feet and back.

"Nurse," he said, practically dripping charm all over the floor.

It took every ounce of Sadie's considerable willpower to keep from rolling her grey eyes. As the young sergeant waltzed past Sadie into the private exam area she actually heard Betty sigh. Whipping around, Sadie found her friend holding a chart against her chest watching Sergeant Barnes with rapt attention. Now Sadie did roll her eyes, beyond unamused.

"I can't believe I joined the army for this," she muttered under her breath. Steeling herself for the exam to come, Sadie flipped open the chart and began reading the information. _James Buchanan Barnes_ , read the top line of his chart. _Twenty-six years old, 5' 11", 159 pounds, finished basic training with distinction, peak physical condition,_ these were all phrases Sadie had seen before pertaining to men just like Sergeant Barnes. "Well Sergeant Barnes, it looks like this is your last stop before picking up your shipping orders."

Sadie lifted her head to look at Sergeant Barnes, only to find him sitting on the examination table. He rest his forearms on his elbows and dropped his head, nodding in an exaggerated sort of fashion.

"That's what they tell me." One of Sadie's eyebrows slipped up her forehead, prompting another grin from Sergeant Barnes. "You're pretty good at that, you know. What's your name?"

"You can call me Nurse Reid, sit up straight, please."

Sergeant Barnes followed her command, straightening the length of his spine and folding his arms over his chest. Sadie reached for the thermometer she'd sterilized between soldiers. "Reid is your first name? 

Irritation prickled just beneath the surface of Sadie's skin. If he were anymore slick, he'd slide right off the exam table. "Reid is my last name," she said, wishing immediately that she hadn't given him the ammunition. "Open your mouth."

Sergeant Barnes waggled his eyebrows in a humorous way but complied, opening wide for her. Under his tongue the thermometer went. Even when the thermometer kept him from speaking, Sadie could see the humor dancing in his wicked blue eyes. Absently, she wondered how many hearts he'd broken with those baby blues. The thermometer came out and he relaxed again.

"Ninety seven," she said to herself, marking it down on his chart.

"So, Nurse Reid, take pity on a poor guy and tell me where you're from? I know that accent doesn't hail from New York."

Sadie felt the flush creep up the back of her neck. No matter how hard she tried, it was almost impossible to hide the slight drawl that tugged the back end of her words. For most of her life, Sadie hadn't been bothered by her slow and low southern accent, betraying her Arkansas roots. Her exposure to the rest of the world through nursing school and then the army had changed that. Sadie wasn't ashamed of where she was from, but she certainly didn't want to hear the country girl jokes from a Brooklyn boy.

Besides, she'd made it her firm policy to keep distance between herself and military men. The realities of war were inevitable. The chances were painfully high that many of the men she'd already examined weren't going to make it out alive. Sadie wasn't interested in having her heart torn in two all over again by getting too close. No matter how charming or attractive those soldiers could be.

"You've got forty-nine other guesses, I think you can figure it out," said Sadie. She put the caps of her stethoscope in her ears and pressed the disk against the Sergeant's firm chest. Through the amplifier, she could hear the steady beat of his heart.

"I won't make fun, if that's what you're thinking. I'm actually a pretty nice guy."

Sadie lifted her gaze to find him looking right at her, unflinching. "I never said you weren't, Sergeant Barnes."

"Bucky," he intervened. "Everyone calls me Bucky."

A play on his middle name, Sadie was sure. She turned the name over in her head while she jotted down notes and then reached for the blood pressure cuff. Bucky. Sadie decided that the name suited the Sergeant well, living up to his blatantly mischievous nature. Bucky held his arm out and Sadie busied herself with his blood pressure and then his vaccination chart.

"Well it looks like you're getting off easy, Sergeant. You've already had your vaccinations for typhoid, malaria, and cholera. All you need is a tetanus shot and fortunately for you, I can put that one in your arm."

Bucky slumped in visible relief, nearly worming a smile from Sadie. "Thank God. You have no idea how embarrassing it is to have to drop your pants in front of a pretty girl."

And there it was, thought Sadie. It took Bucky longer than most to get around to the flirting. "Flattery will get you nowhere Sergeant."

"Bucky," he corrected her. "And who said anything about flattery? That's the honest truth. You are very pretty and I'm really glad I don't have to bare my assets if you catch my drift."

Sadie couldn't help it. She coughed over her laugh. Bucky gave her a broad smile, showing off as many of his white teeth as he could. "Well, that makes two of us."

"Georgia, you've got to be from Georgia."

Sadie ignored him and prepared his tetanus shot. Bucky didn't need her instruction. Instead he rolled his shirt sleeve off, all-too pleased to show off his muscular arm. A familiar pattern set back in. Sterilize. Dry. Stick. Band-Aid.

"Not Georgia," she replied after she'd finished. "But it was a good guess. Alright Sergeant Barnes, you're ready to pick up your orders."

The atmosphere changed in an instant. _Orders_. A small, innocuous seeming word that meant almost nothing before Pearl Harbor now had the power to strike fear into the heart of the hardiest man. Sadie thought to her own orders, received yesterday. She was shipping out in the morning on the _Queen Victoria_ as a member of the 80th Field Hospital, First Clearing Platoon, attached to the 107th Infantry Division. Her ship sailed for Sicily and then onto the mainland. A shiver slipped down the length of her spine, who knew what horrors awaited her.

Bucky slid off the table to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess it's that time, isn't it."

For the first time all day, Sadie looked one of her patients directly in the eye. Bucky gazed back, his blue eyes softening. It was a shame, she thought. He really was a very handsome man, the sort of handsome that got better women than her into trouble. She held a hand out to him, which he took, grasping firmly. Warm and firm, his handshake was the kind that inspired confidence. In fact, all of him inspired confidence and Sadie found herself thinking that maybe he'd be one of the lucky ones.

"Good luck, Sergeant."

"Like I said before, it's Bucky. It's been a pleasure, Nurse Reid."

With a cordial nod of his head, Sergeant Barnes walked out of the exam area. Sadie didn't see him turn back and look after her one more time.

 **A/N: I hoped you guys liked it! Next Chapter features Sadie and Bucky in Italy!**

 **I love feedback both in the form of love and constructive criticism. Leave some love – Kappa.**


	2. Candied Ginger and Poker

**A/N: Thank you so, so much for the reviews, the favorites, and follows! I've had a seriously wretched couple of weeks at work so your kind words have been a huge help! This A/N is kind of long – my old laptop took an unfortunate swim in Diet Dr. Pepper after one of my dogs knocked a can over on the keyboard. So, the bonus is that I'm writing from a brand new MacBook…the bummer is that for now, I've lost the entire draft/outline/scenes for this story.**

 **Also, there is a continuity error with this chapter and last. In this fic the troopship carrying Bucky and Sadie is headed directly for Sicily. In CA:TFA Bucky is shipped out to England first. I thought about going back to change it but in all honesty…the mapped timeline of this story gets totally screwed if we start in England and then go down south.**

 **Finally, a lot of research went into this chapter. No** _ **Queen Victoria**_ **ever sailed in WWII, but the description is based off an army nurse's firsthand account and from the** _ **Samaria**_ **as described in Stephen E. Ambrose's** _ **Band of Brothers**_ **(one of the best books I have ever read). I'm not entirely sure if I've gotten the structure of infantry regiments correct, but I did the best I could. If any history buffs notice any glaring errors, please let me know!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Marvel. If I did I wouldn't be on the ten-year plan to pay off my student loans.**

 **Chapter 2 – Candied Ginger and Poker**

Sadie brushed her hands over her dark olive wool skirt. The sun beat oppressively over the NYPOE as she waited in line with Betty and Evelyn to board the _Queen Victoria_. The cup of coffee she'd had before taking the subway from the hotel to the port was was beginning to wear thin and she had a long day ahead. Beads of sweat began to gather at the small of her back, and she squinted her eyes against the harsh morning.

"Whoever thought of having us board this ship at seven in the morning ought to be shot," muttered Betty under her breath. She was nursing what Sadie supposed was a spectacular hangover after spending too much time with a rakish Airborne Captain and two too many bottles of champagne. It hadn't surprised Sadie in the least when Betty didn't come back to their room, leaving Evelyn to speculate just how far the brazen blonde would go.

"Well, if they're coming on board with us their chances are pretty good," muttered Sadie.

"Don't be such a downer," said Evelyn directly behind her. Sadie didn't need to turn around to know that her nursing school classmate was fiddling nervously with the ends of her curls. All morning long Sadie and Betty had been forced to endure Evelyn's constant worrying about the color of her flaming red hair clashing with their dark olive Class A uniforms. Sadie hadn't understood Evelyn's fuss. After all, she looked exactly like every other nurse boarding the ship, including the dozen or so other redheads.

"Sorry," mumbled Sadie.

"Sade's not entirely wrong, you know," said Betty over her shoulder. "Captain Spears told me last night that Hitler's put a high price on the troop ships headed to Italy and England."

"Oh really?" Asked Evelyn, only half-interested. "What else did he tell you during pillow talk?"

The beet red blush on Betty's cheeks almost matched her red lip stick. "I already told you Evie, we were just _dancing_."

Sadie tried and failed to hide her smirk. "I had no idea that the clubs and dance halls stayed open until five in the morning."

"Oh not you too," said Betty disparagingly. Sadie raised her eyebrows a couple of times, only further riling Betty up. The bickering continued on for several more minutes, leading Betty and Evelyn to snipe at each other over who took more time to get ready and whether they'd actually end up marrying any of the officers they'd enjoyed cavorting around with for the last few weeks. Sadie kept her gaze forward, listening to their antics and enjoying their general company.

Sadie still remembered meeting Evelyn Lewis and Betty Carnahan during their first week of nursing school. The three of them were among the few out-of-town contingent at Vanderbilt, assigned to live on the same floor. Later they would share a suite together, like they shared many of their young adult life experiences together. As different as night and day, Sadie sometimes marveled that they managed to make their friendships work. But perhaps it was their differences that made them so well suited for one another. After all, fearless and brazen Betty wouldn't have a head on her shoulders without her sensible Sadie who would never have come out of her shell without her extroverted and unfailingly kind Evelyn.

Betty and Evelyn had been with Sadie when they heard about Pearl Harbor. They'd sat up with her all night after the phone call from her Aunt Jeanette to tell Sadie about her father. It had been the three of them who decided to join the Army Nursing Corps after graduation. Sadie's eyes darted between Betty and Evelyn. They'd managed to stay together through school and enlistment and training. Now they were all part of the 80th Field Hospital for however long it took.

"Good heavens do you think this could go any slower?" Betty wondered, standing on the tips of her toes to get a better look at the glacial progression of the crowd.

"It's the evacuation and base hospital nurses," said another woman ahead of them. Sadie braced her hands on Betty's shoulders and rose up to her toes, getting a better look at the women now marching up the gangplank. The nurses that would go to the base and evacuation hospitals were certainly expecting an entirely different experience than the field nurses. Lugging suitcases, makeup bags, and purses along with their standard issue gear, they looked more like similarly dressed travelers.

"Someone did tell them this isn't a cruise ship anymore, right?" Asked Sadie, earning sniggers from her friends.

"Do you think they have evening gowns packed away in there?" Evelyn wondered. They watched as a particularly ungainly woman struggled to haul her suitcase over the lip of the ship that attached to the gangplank. Finally, the officer supervising their check-in had to help her. Sadie laughed along with Betty and Evelyn. They amused themselves with their jokes for a while longer, slowly moving up the line.

"Hey, Sade! Tell me more about that handsome Sergeant from yesterday afternoon, he had his physical with you." Betty's question caught Sadie off guard. Pausing, she tried to recall the dozens of men that sat on her exam table. There were a number of men she would have qualified as good-looking, but only a handful of them were truly handsome.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she shot Betty a look of long-suffering. "Betty, I saw a lot of men yesterday. You're going to have to be more specific."

Betty's cherry lips broadened into a smile, excited that Sadie was willing to play her game. "It was late in the afternoon, one of the last guys you saw. He was tall, brown hair, blue eyes, he had this sort of swing in his step."

The name bloomed into Sadie's head without her realizing it. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, one of the few memorable faces and names of her entire day. "You mean the one I had to call twice?"

Betty snapped her fingers in recognition. "Yeah, that's the one! What was his name?"

The field nurses began boarding, they shuffled forward at a faster clip now. "Sergeant James Barnes," said Sadie.

She hitched the strap of her musette bag higher up on her shoulders and readjusted the other bag that hung at her hip. The canteen attached to her musette bag rattled with each step she took. All of the gear in her bags was beginning to grow heavy, but it was nowhere near the weight she'd be carrying in Italy.

"What a great name," said Evelyn, pushing herself into the conversation. "Did you like him?"

"What's there to like?" Sadie asked rhetorically. "I literally only met the man for less than ten minutes."

"It only takes seven seconds to make a good first impression," said Betty knowledgeably. They surged forward again, only a few nurses were ahead of them to board the gangplank.

"Right, and in those seven seconds he ignored my first summons, swaggered over to the exam station like owned the place, did a blatant once-over, and called me _nurse_ ," she imitated his slick tone to the delight of her friends. "Not what I would call a winning start."

"Sounds like my kind of guy," said Evelyn with a rakish grin.

Sadie chuckled. "Then you can have him if ever gets a battlefield commission."

"Right," muttered Betty. "No fraternizing with the enlisteds, a rule I both greatly admire and despise."

Sadie's feet hit the gangplank at the same time as Betty. The two women stopped and stared at each other for a second. Betty's hazel eyes flashed with fear and she swallowed hard. Sadie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You first."

And so Sadie took the lead, as she had in nursing school and in training. It was Sadie's idea to join the army and it had been her crazy idea to join the front lines with a field hospital. Walking up the length of the gangplank, Sadie drank in the sheer size of the operation. Up close the _Queen Victoria_ was a behemoth, large enough to hold 15,000 troops and she would be packed to the gills for her voyage to Sicily. Near the top, Sadie was able to pause long enough to look around. The sight took the air right out of her lungs.

The entire port was literally packed. Behind the dwindling line of nurses, Sadie saw an ocean of men dressed in the same olive drab. The tips of their rifles caught the morning sun, a few thousand of them, coming on in waves. Her commanding officer, First Lieutenant Ruth Bettany, hadn't been kidding when she told her nurses that it would take an entire day and night to get every last man aboard. Crowds of civilians would pack the docks the next morning when the _Victoria_ finally shipped out

"Have you ever seen anything like it in your whole life?" Whispered Evelyn, reaching out and clutching Sadie's hand.

"No," replied Sadie, drinking in the complete magnificence in scale and organization.

Then, it was her turn. "Name?"

"Second Lieutenant Sarah Grace Reid," said Sadie, standing straight at attention.

The officer's assistant rifled around in a long wooden box until he located a small white card which the officer then passed to Sadie. It was printed with her full name, rank, and bunk assignment. "You will follow Second Lieutenant Hampton to your quarters," said the officer, pointing to another man waiting with a small grouping of field nurses.

Sadie nodded and looked down once. A few inches separated the gangplank from the ship itself. Rationally, she knew it was a miniscule distance but at the moment it felt like a chasm. Swallowing, Sadie crossed the canyon that separated her from the life she knew, plunging her into an entire new world. Betty and Evelyn followed along, uncharacteristically silent.

X X X

Connie had been determined to see Bucky off and no amount of his pleading would persuade her otherwise. She'd spent much of the night preening over his uniform and taking extreme care to make sure that every woman at the Copacabana could see that he was all hers. Bucky went along with it, partly because he found Connie's company amusing and partly because she was gorgeous and up for a good time. After all, Bucky wasn't dead. He was about to go off to war and if Connie was willing to let the good time continue as long as possible then he wouldn't say no. So they'd gone dancing with her friend, Bonnie, and then for a walk through Times Square and then spent far too long saying goodbye at her front door. just when Bucky thought she would invite him in, Bonnie opened the door, clearly grouchy that her night hadn't gone nearly as well.

Instead, Connie tucked her handkerchief in one of his pockets and told him to look for her at the docks. Bucky took it in stride and let her kiss him within an inch of his life. He didn't have the heart to tell Connie that there was only one person living that he wanted to see at those docks and he wasn't going to be there.

Wherever Steve had ended up after the Exposition, Bucky didn't know. But Bucky did know that he couldn't bring himself to ask Steve to come say good bye. Forcing his best friend to come down to the docks to see off an entire ship of soldiers all while dying to be one himself didn't sit right with Bucky. It was better that way anyway, Bucky told himself. He hated goodbyes and especially hated dragging them out. So, Bucky woke up, went and had a hot breakfast at his favorite spot in city, took his last hot shower, and reported to the NYPOE alone.

This didn't bother him much until he was actually aboard the _Queen Victoria_ , crowding on the top deck with his fellow soldiers. Men clambered towards the rails, determined to pick out the faces of their loved ones in the throng of civilians who came to watch the ship sail off. Bucky joined them, unwilling to spend anymore time in the main hold than he had to. He found a good spot on the rail and watched the crowd, writhing with movement, a living thing all its own.

Two hands came down hard on his shoulders, nearly scaring Bucky out of his skin.

"Sergeant Barnes!" Crowed a familiar voice. Turning his head, he watched as Sergeant Timothy 'Dum Dum' Dugan. "Damn good to see you!"

Bucky grinned and wrung Dum Dum's hand. "You too, come to catch the spectacle?"

Dum Dum laughed and shoved his way up against the railing right next to him. "I keep waiting for someone come break a bottle of champagne over the hull to ship us off in style," he joked.

"Well, it wouldn't be the army if they weren't indulging in the fanfare," said Bucky. Absently, he found himself scanning the crowd, looking for a face that wasn't there. He wondered what Steve was doing. Did his most recent attempt to join up turn out a success? Or was he sulking at one of his favorite haunts?

"Looking for your girl?" Dum Dum asked.

"Nope," said Bucky, popping the 'p.' He knew Connie was somewhere out there, but she wasn't his girl. She'd been distracting enough last night, but that was all she really was. Even then, Bucky found his eye wandering along the crowd last night. Once he swore he'd even seen the pretty nurse from his medical exam, Nurse Reid.

"Good thing, too many of these young bucks make too much of leaving their girls behind," remarked Dum Dum. The man dug into one of the large pockets on the front of his field jacket and produced a pack of cigarettes. Dum Dum popped one in his mouth and lit it, letting the smoke sit precariously between his lips. "Women cloud the mind."

Bucky laughed in earnest. "Can't argue with that."

The ship began to pull away from the dock. The crowd below broke into tumultuous cheering. "Cheering us as we go off to war. Because that's not morbid at all."

"Glad to see your sense of humor hasn't changed," said Bucky. Dum Dum blew out a cloud of smoke, resting his forearms on the railing. The _Queen_ began pulling further and further away from the dock, turning out towards the bay and then to the Atlantic.

"Always happy to serve," he replied, tilting his bowler hat towards Bucky.

That hat would have been recognizable anywhere. Bucky met Dum Dum during basic training and ended up excelling together. That was how they both ended up in F Company of the 107th, promoted to Sergeant and given command of rifle squads in separate platoons.

The men fell silent, watching the city grow smaller and smaller. "You're from here, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

Bucky's throat closed up. He knew Brooklyn like the back of his hand. Every good memory, every heartbreak, every joy, every sorrow, it all took place in the city of his birth. He rubbed his face with one of his hands. Bucky remembered running down the streets with Steve, playing baseball in the alleys and poking his face in the windows of the shops. He'd gotten into his first fight only blocks away from his elementary school and saved Steve from countless beatings in those streets. It was where Bucky had his first kiss, where he'd gone on his first date and lost his virginity. Bucky and Steve drank their first beers, got their first jobs, and finished high school together in Brooklyn. It was his home, the one place on earth he could always count on to never change.

"You'll see it again," said Dum Dum, clapping him on the shoulder.

"God, I hope so."

"Alright, enough with the sentimental bullshit, I hear they're serving meals round-the-clock on this sardine can."

Bucky's eyes lingered on the New York skyline for a moment longer before tore them away and followed his friend back into the depths of the ship. He had no idea if or when he'd seen Brooklyn again, but he would do everything in his power to make it happen as soon as possible.

X X X

Three days passed, though they felt like years to Bucky. If all war was hell, then surely troopships were the unceremonious gateway. The ship had been completely gutted, allowing for bunks to be erected rising five high, leaving an aisle between the rows so narrow a man couldn't even walk straight forward wearing all of his gear. Men had been assigned two to a bunk, forcing them to take shifts sleeping in the sad excuse for a bed and sleeping on the deck. Bucky's bunkmate was another guy from F Company in the second rifle squad of first platoon. They hardly saw each other except when the weather took a nasty turn.

Currently every man was crammed into the bowels of the ship, riding out an Atlantic storm. Many of the other soldiers were suffering from the effects of seasickness, laid out in hallways and cabins and every other place they could curl up and wait for the storm to pass. The _Queen_ tossed them back and forth, bobbing in the enormous waves like a she was nothing more than a child's toy sailboat. Those men who weren't in the throes of seasickness were doing the only other thing they could to pass the time: gamble.

Bucky had managed to keep his guts together, but only just. To help keep his mind off the uncomfortable rolling of his stomach he managed to set up a pretty decent poker game with Dum Dum and three other men from the third platoon of F Company: Private Dennis Bluthe, Private Earnest Gannis, and Corporal John Nixon. They didn't play for much more than bragging rights and the few dollars they laid down on their hands, but that was just fine by Bucky.

They took up a large portion of Corporal Nixon's bunk, laying the cards out as best as they could as the ship rocked back and forth. Bucky had his legs stretched out and the top few couple buttons of his shirt undone. A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead and the back of his neck.

"Jesus Christ this place is worse than a swamp," complained Dum Dum, wiping the back of his neck.

Dum Dum wasn't wrong.

"Smells about as good as one too," said Private Bluthe. He dealt the latest hand. "And I'm from the bayou, I'd know."

Bucky took a look at his five cards. His thought took a turn for the non-sequitur as he wondered whether Nurse Reid was from Louisiana. He couldn't exactly remember her accent clearly, but he remembered enjoying the way she drew her vowel out. It was foreign and soothing, exactly the way he expected all southern women spoke. Not that it mattered much, it wasn't like he would ever see her again.

"Bucky, the bet's to you," Dum Dum interrupted his train of thought.

Coming to, Bucky took a look at his hand and worked to keep his face perfectly neutral. As far as bad hands went he was scraping the bottom of the barrel. Tossing in just enough to cover the blind, Bucky let the game move forward.

From a few bunks down the tell-tale sound of vomiting could be heard, followed by the groans from surrounding soldiers.

"It'll be a miracle if we make it to Italy without catching some miserable disease down here," complained Private Gannis. Bucky privately agreed with him.

He had just opened his mouth to speak when the ship pitched hard to one side. Bucky and Dum Dum had just enough time to grasp the railing of the bunks next to them. Dum Dum's head still hit one of the support bars and his colorful cursing filled the air. Corporal Nixon's entire body flew forward, launching across the narrow aisle. The men across from him scattered to the side and he slammed into the bunk across from him. A sickening crack could be heard, even above the shouting. Bucky's stomach turned, threatening to upend all over the already disgusting floor.

"Shit!"

"Nix, you okay?" Nixon groaned in pain and as he came up Bucky could see he'd bloodied his mouth with a badly split lip. Swiftly, Bucky swallowed his seasickness and rose to his feet, darting to support the Corporal to his feet.

"Damnit!" Nixon swore as he tried to put his weight on his left foot. "I think it's broken. Shit, shit, I think it's broken!" He howled and hopped on his right foot, trying to get a better grasp on Bucky. Dum Dum lurched forward, pulling Nixon's other arm over his shoulder. Blood trickled from a nasty cut on his forehead, working its way down towards his brow.

"You're gonna be fine, Nix," muttered Bucky as he straightened and kept Nixon's arm taut over his shoulder. "Come on, you both need to get to the sickbay."

X X X

Sadie received a care package from her mother and her Aunt Jeanette shortly before departing for Europe. The box contained loving letters, pictures, a Saint Christopher's medal, and enough candied ginger to get her through the entire war. The ginger, apart from being one of Sadie's favorite sweets, was apparently supposed to help her combat seasickness. Norma Reid, Sadie's mother, was a very firm believer in homeopathic remedies. 'Country medicine,' as she preferred to call it, was usually comprised of Norma's belief in old wives' tales. From a very early age, Sadie could remember her doctor father teasing her mother about her home remedies.

But, after three days on the _Queen Victoria_ , Sadie would never question country medicine ever again. To appease her guilt at leaving her mother and aunt behind, Sadie shoved the whole lot of candied ginger into her musette bag. At first she'd sucked on it as a reminder of home. But as the hours wore on, Sadie found herself reaching for a piece every time her stomach started to turn. To her great disbelief and immense pleasure, the remedy worked.

As a result, she was one of a handful of nurses left standing on the whole ship. Betty and Evelyn were both in their bunks, clutching their stomachs and praying to every God they knew. Not even country medicine could help them now.

This of course, left Sadie to work even longer shifts in the sickbay to compensate for the missing nurses. The whole ship reeked of vomit, something Sadie thought she'd get used to, but never quite did. Rough seas threw the vessel around like a ragdoll, which resulted in a litany of unusual injuries. One of the surgeons was even forced to perform an appendectomy while the ship continued to thrash about.

Sadie was in the process of stretching sheets over a thin infirmary mattress, when the sickbay doors burst open.

"Somebody help us!" A deep voice roused her attention. Looking up from her task, she found a motley crew of three soldiers.

"Nurse Reid! Go attend those men!" One of the doctors barked from over the body of an unconscious man.

Wiping her hands on her smock apron, Sadie hurried forward and reached out to steady the chest of a man supported by his two companions. "What happened?"

"He took at tumble when the ship nearly went sideways," said a man with almost white-blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Blood had traced a path all the way down his forehead and threatened get in his eye, a souvenir from the same event.

"I think it's broken!" The man in the middle moaned.

"Alright, you're going to be fine Corporal," she said soothingly and lifted her head up. Sadie came face-to-face with Sergeant Bucky Barnes. Despite the situation, his lips twitched, threatening to pull into a smile. "Get him to that first open bed," she ordered and then followed them over. "What's your name?"

"Corporal John Nixon," the kid said, passing a hand over his eyes.

Sadie snapped her fingers to get the attention of one of the only orderlies on the entire ship. "Go get Doctor Willard," she commanded. "Then fetch me a wound kit."

Leaning over the young corporal, she touched his hand gently before moving down to his foot. With his standard issue pants and combat boots on, it was impossible to tell the extend of the damage. Sadie drummed up her lessons from nursing school. His foot remained at the proper angle and didn't bend in any other unnatural way. Gingerly, she touched his foot and pulled back when he hissed in pain. "Alright, Corporal. I'm going to unlace your boot. We need to see your ankle to determine the extent of your injury."

Corporal Nixon nodded, gritting his teeth.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" A quiet, but steady voice filled Sadie's ears. Turning her head a fraction, she found Bucky next to her.

"Hold him down if he starts to thrash around too much," she said just as softly. "Keep talking to him too, that will help distract him from the pain." Bucky nodded and went to one side of the bed while his companion took the other.

With the gentlest touch she could muster, Sadie slowly unlaced Corporal Nixon's boot, tugging the laces all the way free. Bucky continued to speak to his friend, asking questions, making jokes, and eliciting any response he could. Once the laces were free, Sadie pulled the tongue of the boot forward.

"You there," she said to Bucky's companion.

"Sergeant Timothy Dugan, ma'am," he said standing straighter. "Everyone calls me Dum Dum."

Sadie's eyebrow rose. "Can you do the job of holding Corporal Nixon down on your own?" Dum Dum nodded. "Sergeant Barnes, come help me."

Bucky took his place next to Sadie. She inhaled and wrinkled her nose. He smelled _awful_ , like the worst combination of sweat and stale vomit imaginable. "The line for the showers was too long this morning," he joked, catching on fast. "I wouldn't want to smell me either."

Sadie's cheeks swirled furious red at having been caught. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. Looks like I'll have to fall back on my winning charm and wit if my good looks and hygiene can't get me anywhere." Sadie shook her head in disbelief that Bucky could still be so good-natured despite the horrendous conditions in the enlisted barracks of the ship. "Now then, tell me what to do."

"Lift his leg and hold it as still as you can," said Sadie, glad to have an excuse to avoid further conversation. Bucky grasped Nixon's leg and very slowly brought it up, locking it in a firm grasp. Sadie grasped the boot and carefully worked it off Nixon's foot. The man writhed, doing his best not to curse like a sailor while Dum Dum held him down. "You're doing great Corporal. The hard part's over."

Swiftly, Sadie rolled up his pant leg and examined his ankle. Already the pale skin was bruising, mottled into a veritable rainbow of color. Narrowing her eyes, she could see that the swelling had set in as well. "There are no signs of an obvious break. But we'll need Dr. Willard to confirm."

Just as she spoke, a man in his mid-thirties approached. Thinning hair swept across his forehead and he wore a white coat over his uniform. A pair of wire glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, the glass shining in front of kind brown eyes. Dr. Ian Willard gave Sadie a weary smile. "Well now, what have we got here, Nurse Reid?"

"Corporal John Nixon, presents with what appears to be a twisted or sprained ankle," she said.

"Corporal Nixon, I'm Dr. Willard. Let's have a better look at that ankle. Nurse Reid, will you take care of the Sergeant's head wound?"

Sadie had completely forgotten about Dum Dum's cut. Whirling around, she found Dum Dum and Bucky both sitting on an empty bed. Her lips tugged downward. Dum Dum's cut would need immediate attention, but concern piqued in her stomach at the sight of Bucky as well. He was too pale beneath the beginnings of an impressive beard and dark circles clung to the undersides of his eyes. Sadie knew the men were taking shifts sleeping, but she wondered if he'd gotten any sleep at all.

"Sergeant Barnes, are you feeling alright?"

His lips drew into a straight line and his eyes tightened before he nodded once. "I'm fine Nurse Reid," he said with a weak smile.

Bucky was lying.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention to Dum Dum. For all his imposing appearance, he proved to be a model patient. Curiosity got the better of her in the end and Sadie found herself finally asking the question she'd dying to ask for days now. "What is it that you all do down there?"

Dum Dum chuckled. "We gamble mostly, ma'am. We were in the middle of a poker game when prima ballerina over there took a spill."

Sadie's smiled. She dabbed disinfectant over the cleaned cut. "Who was winning?"

Her patient pulled a face. "Good ole' Bucky was taking us to the cleaners."

He was, was he? Sadie knew she shouldn't do it, but the opportunity knocked too hard to ignore. "He's got a tell, you know."

Dum Dum's entire countenance changed. The expression on his face shifted to one of curiosity and a very evil grin started reached into his eyes. "No shit," he paused. "I mean no kidding. What is it?"

Sadie looked over her shoulder to where Bucky stood with Corporal Nixon. "He straightens his mouth out when he's lying. Did it just now when I asked him how he was feeling." Without another word, Sadie taped on the small bandage to cover Dum Dum's cut. When she finished with her handiwork, she patted his shoulder. "Come back and see me to change that bandage. Normally I wouldn't worry but who knows what diseases are creeping around down in the enlisted cabins."

"I will take any excuse to get out of that hell-hole," he agreed and stood up. "It's been an absolute pleasure, Nurse Reid. Oh, and thanks for the tip!" Dum Dum tipped his head toward her and went to check on Nixon.

Sadie returned to Bucky. The ship pitched hard again and he placed an involuntary hand over his flat stomach. Bucky was currently a far cry from the cocky soldier who'd been too smooth for his own good only a few days before. Pity welled up in her stomach. If she remembered his chart correctly, he was from Brooklyn and likely had never been on a boat in his life. Sadie wasn't particularly a fan of his devil-may-care attitude, but she hated seeing anyone suffer if she could help it.

She'd kept a small bag of ginger in the front pocket of her apron. Sadie had enough to keep her well supplied even without it. Grabbing his hand, she ignored the surprised expression that put the faintest trace of color into his cheeks. Pressing the small bag of candy into his hand she closed his fingers over it. "Candied ginger. It should give you a little relief."

"You are a lifesaver," said Bucky all sincerity.

Sadie thought guiltily about giving away his tell to Dum Dum. "Don't go singing my praises just yet."

"Nurse Reid!" Dr. Willard called. "Come over here and give me a hand."

Sadie nodded goodbye to Bucky and Dum Dum, leaving them to retreat back into the miserable bowels of the ship.

 **A/N: I debated back and forth on whether to devote a full chapter to being aboard the troopship but in the end decided it was necessary. All of my research on Dum Dum came back sketchy as to his origins etc. One tidbit I read suggested that in the cinematic universe he served in the 107** **th** **. I decided to go with this in the end, mainly because until the SSR shows up there just weren't enough canon characters in these early chapters.**

 **I promise the next chapter WILL feature Sadie and Bucky and the 107** **th** **in Italy. The action also starts to ramp up near the end of the next chapter.**

 **In the meantime, I love reviews and constructive criticism. Please let me know what you thought/favorite parts/predictions for what's next!**

 **Much love – Kappa.**


	3. Field Hospitals and Foxholes

**A/N: So, so sorry about the delay! I have a litany of excuses not the least of which include getting swamped with work; then leaving said job; and moving to Colorado for my husband's work! To say it's been a totally insane few months is an understatement. As a result all of my writing sort of fell to the wayside.**

 **I really struggled with this chapter. It's quite a lot of set up, detail, and tries to solidify certain relationships outside of just Bucky and Sadie's. As with previous chapters, a lot of research went into this so I hope I got most of the historical details right!**

 **Fair warning – this chapter (and most future chapters) will contain strong language!**

 **Thank you so, so much for the review, favorites, and follows. You guys are the best! I hope you enjoy this chapter…it's a set up for the real action and some great Bucky/Sadie stuff that happens next chapter!**

 **Disclaimer – if it's Marvel's I don't own it. If it's not, then it's mine.**

 **Chapter Three – Field Hospitals and Foxholes**

Italy was hot.

There was just no getting around this obvious and unassailable fact. The pulsing temperature and humidity permeated every aspect of the rocky terrain. It was the sort of sticky heat that weighed down a man's lungs and yet left him thirsty and thinking with longing for the comforts of home. Mosquitos rose from pools of standing water left from the last of the May and June rain, following soldiers in swarms and causing even more misery. But there was one sentiment that each man in the 107th seemed to share. At least they were off the floating cesspool that carried them to Africa and out of the dry heat that sucked the moisture out of everything it reached in Tunisia. There were worse things than suffering the heat humidity of Sicily, and spending another day aboard the _Queen Victoria_ or in the unbearable dryness of Tunisia were two of them.

Bucky tried to keep those small blessings in mind as the oppressive sun shone down on the convoy he rode in. The bad weather that accompanied the landing cleared up some hours ago, leaving nothing but endless blue sky and the harsh afternoon sun as it tracked across the sky.

"I swear to God I'm never getting on a boat again for the rest of my life," said Dum Dum, squinting into the early afternoon sun.

"Forget the boats, I'd settle for never setting foot on a beach again," muttered Private John Nixon.

A small smile tugged at Bucky's lips as he pressed his elbows into his knees, leaning forward. He could feel each and every small bump in the dirt road race through his booted feet, reverberating through his already rattled chest. He rode on the same convoy as Dum Dum and John Nixon, driving away from their thankfully anticlimactic and successful invasion of Europe. Privately he thought Dum Dum and Nixon were getting ahead of themselves. There were worse things to come, but nobody wanted to think about that right now. Instead he rerouted his mind to where they'd been so far.

Eight days after the _Queen Victoria_ embarked from New York, she dropped anchor in Bizerte, Tunisia. It took two days to unload troops, supporting personnel, and cargo. By the time Bucky emerged from the main hold of the ship he felt as though he'd aged eight years. Bedraggled, exhausted, and still feeling the ill effects of the ship rolling on the Atlantic waves, the 107th drug itself from the bowels of the ship and onto large trucks that carried them to their base camp. From there they set up tents and began preparing for the impending invasion.

F Company spent most of its time studying the invasion map, memorizing each maneuver it would carry out upon landing in Sicily. In addition, each man learned all of the other maneuvers of every other company down to the last detail. Bucky immersed himself in more map-reading lessons, language and customs reviews, tactical training and shooting. As a leader of the third rifle squad in the second platoon, Bucky was responsible with ensuring that his men were competent marksmen and soldiers, all while being a master marksman himself.

Bucky supposed this excellence came from years of practicing with slingshots, shooting spitballs at kids he didn't like, and his excellent hand-eye coordination. He'd never fired a gun in his life until he joined the military, but it came as easy to him as breathing. His body seemed perfectly attuned to the mechanics of a rifle and it became very apparent very early that he was made for sharpshooting. As such, he served as one of the unofficially designated long distance shooters in the company, able to hit snipers from the ground if the need arose. Bucky eyed the trigger of his rifle and wondered how many rounds he would blow through. His stomach turned at the thought of taking another life, enemy or not.

"Hey Buck!" Dum Dum's booming voice cut through his reverie. Snapping back to attention, Bucky nodded his head towards Dum Dum. The Bostonian held out a pack of cigarettes but Bucky waved his hand.

"Nah, but thanks."

"Not a smoker?" John Nixon asked, surprise coloring his voice.

Bucky shook his head. "Nope, never picked it up. Don't see the point in starting now."

"Well more for us," said Nixon cheerfully.

With his head bowed, the sun beat down on the exposed back of Bucky's neck. Rivulets of sweat slipped down his skin, cutting tracks through the fine layer of dirt and sand that clung to him. He'd showered plenty of times in the days between disembarking from the _Queen Victoria_ in Tunisia and storming the beach at Licata, but that hardly mattered now that he'd sloshed his way onto the shore, crawled across sand, and took refuge from potential enemy fire in the dusty grass.

Dum Dum and Nixon bantered back and forth about what could possibly be worse than being stuck on a troop ship and Bucky was content to filter the argument into background noise. He sat near the end of the convoy, the butt of his rifle resting on the metal floor between his knees. Shifting his gaze away from his own boots, Bucky stole a furtive glance at his comrades.

Each man seemed to be handling their impending campaign in their own way. Dum Dum relieved his tension by being louder than usual while Nixon settled on egging his friend on. Further down the row Bucky could see one of his riflemen, Frank O'Connell rubbing his thumbs over the beads of a rosary and his friend Richie Juarez stared blankly ahead, the sleeve of his uniform slightly torn from the rough terrain up the beachhead to their rendezvous point. Other men diverted one another with conversation, cigarettes hanging from their mouths, puffing smoke as they spoke.

Bucky focused on the rumbling truck turning his eyes back to watch Dum Dum entertain those nearest him with tales from his sordid youth in Boston. Absently, Bucky drummed his fingers along the barrel of his rifle. He'd have to clean it later to get the sand out of the firing mechanism but it had thus far gone unshot in the combat zone.

The convoy was taking them to a narrow band of trees headed up a rocky ridge overlooking a small, German occupied down. They'd be taking the town first thing in the morning, but before then they would have to survive the night. Bucky's first sergeant had gathered his squad leaders before getting on the convoy to tell them to expect heavy shelling and no air support through the night. It looked like F Company would be getting their first taste of battle and Bucky was dreading it. He was seldom ever jealous of Steve, but in those moments as the convoys trundled towards the drop off point, Bucky had never been more jealous of Steve who was far away from the war.

Loud laughter distracted Bucky again.

"And then, if you fucking believe it, good old Nix here looks Captain Liebert right in the eye and he says 'missing bottle of scotch? I don't know nothing about no scotch.'" The men surrounding Dum Dum and Nixon howled with laughter. "And the whole time the bottle is sitting in the bottom of his footlocker."

"Liebert didn't even look?"

John Nixon shook his head laughing as Dum Dum thumped him on the back. "Nope. Bucky was there too! He saw the whole thing."

Bucky grinned and nodded as the attention shifted to him. "Captain Liebert took one look at Nix, called him a waste of goddamn oxygen and marched out. That was the worst hangover of my life, waking up after we drank that scotch."

"Man I can't believe we were one barrack over during training camp and missed all of this shit," said one of the other privates in Dum Dum's squad.

Dum Dum opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as the truck rolled to an abrupt halt. Calls and shouts rang through the air as F Company began to hop off the convoys to assemble.

"Second platoon on me!" First Lieutenant McAllister yelled from the truck over. Henry McAllister served as F Company's second platoon leader. He was a tall, blonde man in his late twenties. Bucky learned somewhere along the way that he'd played football for Georgia and came from southern money. A group of forty men began to gather around him. Bucky and the two other Staff Sergeants in charge of the rifle squads made their way to the lead. "Alright, listen up men. Second platoon is going to dig in through the center of the tree line, flanked by first and third platoons. Intelligence thinks we'll be targeted by German artillery in the town below so dig your foxholes deep and provide good cover. Staff Sergeant Taylor take your rifle squad to just below the ridge, Staff Sergeant Webster you men will take the middle and Staff Sergeant Barnes your squad will take up the rear.

"E and G companies will flank our position and line continues on down from there. We need to move fast and efficient, the 80th field hospital and clearing platoons are right behind us and need time to set up to take of your scrawny asses. Understood?"

A chorus of 'yes sirs' came from all around. Lieutenant McAllister gave them a short nod. "Alright then let's get it done."

"Second rifle squad, you heard the man. Grab your gear and let's move out!' Bucky shouted over the din. One by one, eleven men fell in with him. Ahead of them lay open ground. "Spread out and stay on alert."

They began walking forward and looked back only once when the trucks drove away. Bucky could see the other platoons and squads spread similarly, rifles at the ready. Each step they took drew closer to the front line and further into the war. Bucky swallowed his fears and kept his line moving forward.

X X X

During their brief tenure in Tunisia, the nurses and personnel of the 80th field hospital learned all the skills necessary to erect and dismantle an entire mobile hospital in record time. Each member of the hospital had a specific job she or he was tasked with all while knowing the exact role of every other member, allowing them to trade positions and pick up slack should the need arise. Nurses were in charge of unloading the convoys, helping erect the large tents, setting up patient cots, operating areas, and exam spaces. When the hospital was ready to ship on, each nurse knew her role in dismantling the entire operating and packing it away for their next post.

Sadie had lost count of the number of times her commanding officers ran through the procedure with the entire hospital. They'd practiced on the base in Tunisia at least a dozen times, simulating battlefield conditions as best as possible. On top of operations, all of the nurses learned to dig their own foxholes and slept in them to get their first taste of their coming life. Their white dresses and smocks were traded for the same standard issue uniform that the men wore from the olive drab field jackets right down to the leather combat boots. The makeup, stockings, jewelry, and other daily luxuries that field nurses brought along were left behind, taken up by extra morphine syrettes, rations, scissors, and bandages.

Somehow, they managed to find space in their gear for small tokens from home and little luxuries. Sadie kept a silver handled hairbrush in her musette along with pictures from home, and a pair of tweezers lest her dark eyebrows get out of control. She wore her dog tags and a second chain around her neck bearing three items: a Saint Agatha's medal, a Saint Christopher's medal, and her father's wedding ring. When she began restless Sadie rubbed her thumb over the shining gold, drawing comfort from the bittersweet memories of a life before the war.

Sadie's primary role was to unpack, inventory, and prepare all the medications and supplies for the main hospital tent. She carried the heavy crates into the tents as soon as practicable, setting up the makeshift cabinets and tables that held all of the supplies. At any given time she knew exactly how much of each type of medicine they had on hand, what patients were to receive what treatment, and how to triage incoming wounded in case of medicine shortages. The crates were heavy and Sadie noticed by the end of her short tenure in Africa her arms show the definition of muscles she had no idea she possessed.

At the moment, Sadie considered what she'd look like by the end of the Italian campaign as she ducked out of the hospital tent, jogging lightly to the truck for another crate. Other medical personnel were working as fast as they could to finish erecting and securing the other tents that comprised the 80th. As Sadie paused at the truck to wipe the sweat from her brow, Betty joined her.

"I still can't believe we're so close to the front line with only an aid station between."

Betty's complaint seemed to echo the sentiment of the four other nurses and several of the lower level technicians. Their commanding officer had gathered the hospital at the drop off point to announce that given the current plan to move the 107th as quickly through Sicily as possible, there was no need to set up the full chain of evacuation, favoring the strategy to get the wounded to the field and then evacuation hospitals as swiftly as possible. Thus, the 80th field hospital stood a mere ten miles from the front line with only an aid station in-between.

"Battalion HQ is just doing what it thinks is best. At least we're not the litter bearers," she said reasonably and jerked her head over to three kids that worked on securing stretchers to the jeeps that would run out to the the company aid stations at a moment's notice through the night. Although they'd all been assured that aid stations were relatively safe, they were still open targets for poorly aimed mortars or air raids.

"Still, we were promised thirty miles. Sometimes I think the Army is treating the 107th and the 80th like their own personal experiments." Sadie rolled her eyes at Betty's overdramatic statement.

"I think you'll make it," said Sadie and she grabbed the next crate of plasma. Once she had a good grip on the heavy box, she started back to the main hospital tent.

A small curse slipped out of her lip as she struggled to get past the mosquito netting hanging in the doorway of the tent. The additional layer came as a response to the rash of malaria that cropped up in Africa and looked to only get worse in the humid Italian summer.

"I barely made it off the ship alive," muttered Betty, following her with a crate of bandages and supplies in her arms.

"Now you're definitely over exaggerating," teased Sadie. She got the crate down with the others and paused to dig her knuckles into a particularly sore spot in her lower back. The humidity permeated through the canvas tent and sweat poured down Sadie's back, causing her undergarments to stick uncomfortably to her skin. She thought with longing for the pond near the farmhouse on her parents land and the large oak that shaded most of the picket-fenced back yard. "What I wouldn't give for a cold lemonade and a good book right now," she remarked offhandedly.

Betty snorted in poorly concealed, slightly sarcastic laughter. "Could you be any more innocent? I'd rather have a mojito and a spot poolside at a nice Miami hotel."

Sadie made a face. "Keep Miami. I think I'll stick with the country, thanks."

"You would, Miss Arkansas," teased Betty. The blonde gave Sadie a roguish wink as she took her bandages to a different supply area. Sadie rolled her eyes and started for the next crate, telling herself there was nothing wrong with wanting a slice of peace and quiet, no matter how childish and innocent it sounded to her more cultured friends.

Outside the late afternoon sun was starting to crest towards the westward horizon. It would be dark soon and already Sadie could feel the tension rising. The hospital had been informed that the 107th expected heavy shelling through the night and that they should expect to see their first casualties of the war. Everyone from the head surgeon right down to the lowliest private seemed to vibrate with a sick sort of anticipation.

Sadie felt it too, wondering what injuries awaited them. She knew from nursing school that there was a massive difference between reading about wounds and studying pictures versus seeing the real thing in person. Often she found herself obsessing over whether she would be able to handle the real deal with it came before her or if she would crack under the pressure, unable to handle the nasty realities of war and medicine. Nobody could teach how to really mentally prepare for an operation of this magnitude and Sadie could only hope that when the time came she could handle whatever happened.

The comfort time was rapidly running out and as she grabbed another crate from the truck, she wondered what the infinite night ahead would bring.

X X X

"I've never been camping," said Bucky as he hauled another shovel full of dirt out of the dry earth. "But this seems worse."

PFC Gerald Meyers chuckled. "How come you've never been camping? You have a shitty childhood or something?"

Bucky paused and dropped his head back, letting out a half laugh. Dirt lined the undersides of his fingernails and he could feel his skin stretching and cracking over his knuckles. "I grew up in Brooklyn, the closest thing I got to camping was waiting outside Ebbets Field on opening day. Where are you from?"

He pushed his spade deeper into the earth and kept digging. "Eugene, Oregon. Spent my whole life camping with my dad and we never did anything like this. You said you've been Ebbets Field? To see the Dodgers play?"

Bucky had never even heard of Eugene, Oregon. PFC Meyers' town was just another pin dot on the empty expanse of his mental map. In Bucky's mind there was New York and, well, everywhere else. He hadn't realized just how expansive the country was until he started meeting men from all of its corners. "Yeah, it was just about the only thing we could afford."

"We? You got a brother?"

In his chest, Bucky's heartstrings tightened uncomfortably. He hoped that wherever Steve was it was better than a foxhole in one of the hottest places on the whole damn planet. "Something like that, yeah," he said noncommittally, unwilling to talk about it further.

They fell into silence, putting their full effort into getting dug in. By the time they finished, his Chino shirt was plastered to his body. Even at night the temperatures were warm and all Bucky wanted to do was lay down and get some sleep. After the weeks, he wasn't sure if he'd ever get a full night's sleep again. But at long last they were finished and started to settle in.

"Sergeant Barnes!" Bucky sat up to see the shadow of Lieutenant McAllister jogging towards him.

"Sir!"

Lieutenant McAllister crouched low. "We just got word, A and B companies suffered delays getting to their rendezvous points and are just now arriving at their spots on the line. Nobody has managed to connect with E Company yet. First platoon is sending a patrol to link up. We've only got one aid station a few hundred yards off the line and the 80th field hospital was forced up closer than expected, only ten miles out. That means only major injuries will leave the line tonight. Keep your men in their foxholes," McAllister cast a dark look to their surroundings. "I've got a feeling it's going to get real bad."

Meyers, who had been listening in, cast a dubious look toward the back end of the line where the trees thinned out into rocky terrain.. "Sir," said Meyers slowly. "The doctors and nurses are going to be that close to the shelling?"

"Looks that way."

For all of the army's planning, it seemed there were just some things it couldn't account for. The field hospitals were to remain closer to thirty miles behind the front line at all times. But now the 80th would be ten miles away, practically a stone's throw.

"Once we get past the first advance things should sort out properly," said McAllister. "Bucky, keep your men in their foxholes, I don't want any unnecessary casualties if we can help it."

"Yes, sir," said Bucky. He and Meyers watched as McAllister jogged off, staying low in the dusk.

"The doctors and nurses might as well dig foxholes in with us they're gonna be so close," muttered Meyers irritably. "What the fuck are we gonna do if they get hit?"

Bucky tried not to think about it. Without noticing, his mind drifted to Nurse Reid. Was she a member of the 80th? Or was she part of an evacuation or permanent hospital unit? He'd only ever seen her in a white nurse's uniform with nicely curled hair and makeup. It was almost impossible for him to imagine her or her friends out here in the middle of all this.

"Just in case you should keep your head down and try not to get hit," said Bucky. Meyers chuckled and they settled down into the foxhole, pushing cover over their heads. At length darkness descended. The air was unnaturally quiet, broken only by the occasional nervous laugh or distant gunfire. Every time Bucky heard it he started, his whole body tense.

"God, it's even hotter than hell at night," muttered Meyers.

Bucky rolled his eyes. Tipping his helmet to a more comfortable spot on his head, he started to retort but never finished his thought.

The trees and the air overhead literally exploded.

 **A/N: Minor cliff hanger! Sorry for the lack of Bucky/Sadie in this chapter but it's unavoidable…they can't be together every minute of the war can they? I promise that next chapter will see combat action, field hospital action, and Bucky/Sadie's next run-in.**

 **Let me know what you think, parts you liked, predictions for the future, questions etc! Much love – Kappa.**


	4. First Names and the Fourth of July

**A/N: Hey all! Here's a regular update (for once). This chapter was equal parts difficult and so, so much fun to write. Writing certain combat sequences is difficult, there are only so many way you can describe artillery fire etc. But I loved some of the descriptions about Sadie and Bucky's childhoods as well as their interaction at the end of the chapter.**

 **Thank you so, so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'm so thrilled that you guys are loving the historical aspects of the story. That being said, what happens in this chapter would never have happened in real life. But, happily this is Marvel where super soldiers run amok and mild-mannered men turn into giant green rage monsters…so who cares!**

 **The usual warning about language applies. Also, this chapter does describe wounds in some detail, but not too bad!**

 **Disclaimer – you know what's mine and what's not!**

 **Chapter Four – First Names and the Fourth of July**

Bucky loved the Fourth of July. Not only was it one of his favorite holidays, but it also happened to be Steve's birthday. When she was alive, Steve's mother would pull out all the stops starting with red, white, and blue paper decorations, blueberry pancakes and the few presents she'd managed to scrape together, usually more drawing supplies. If the Dodgers were playing a home game Bucky's dad would take them to the baseball game and then back to Steve's house for a small party. Steve's mom would cook a veritable fourth of July feast topped off with a massive angel food cake coated with a mountain of whipped cream and sliced strawberries. Together, Steve and Bucky liked to celebrate by shooting off homemade bottle rockets and cherry bombs out in one of the empty abandoned lots down the street. Kids from all over the neighborhood would come out with them and they would take turns trying to hit targets painted on boards or even the brick walls of the nearest buildings. Later they would find prime spots for one of the city's fireworks shows. Bucky had always enjoyed fireworks, especially the big colored ones that he only ever saw on the Fourth.

When the first shells exploded overhead, all Bucky could think about was the Fourth of July. His brain couldn't straighten out the bright lights and deep booms from the smell of Brooklyn in July and the taste of fresh cut strawberries. Squeezing his eyes shut, Bucky could even see Steve jumping out of his seat, baseball glove raised high over his head to catch a foul ball. For a few precious seconds, Bucky was completely disoriented, unsure if he was back in Brooklyn during the most spectacular fireworks display of his life or if he'd actually passed the gates straight into hell. But then he heard the yelling of the man in the foxhole with him and Bucky knew this was no Fourth of July spectacular.

Flashes of light accompanied by the loudest cracks of thunder he ever heard temporarily deafened him. The trees above didn't just break, they splintered, sending shards of wood in a thousand directions at once. Throwing his hands on top of his head, cracked the side of his hand atop his helmet and shoved himself as far down into his foxhole as he could.

"Mother of God!" PFC Meyers shouted and hunkered down even lower than Bucky. Sprays of dirt flew through their cover and hit Bucky across the face.

Above them the show in the night sky transcended any fireworks display Bucky had ever seen, it was without a doubt the most awe inspiring display of military prowess he'd ever seen. Each flash and bang was blinding and deafening. The ground trembled beneath the fury of the German artillery, shaking right into the core of Bucky's heart.

Flash. Boom. Trees blew apart.

Flash. Boom. The sound of heavy branches falling to the earth came with an ear-splitting crack.

Flash. Boom. The earth threatened to split in two beneath Bucky's body.

Flash. Boom. "MEDIC!"

Bucky scrambled around to rise up to the edge of his foxhole. Peering out, he tried to see who had been hit. A shadow rose from a nearby foxhole and in the flash of light from another shell, he could see the white band on the man's arm, adorned with a red circle and white cross. One of the platoon's medics kept low, barreling as fast as he could to the sound of strangled screaming, heard only between shell bursts.

"I need a medic!" The strangled scream permeated the air between shells. Other heads began to pop up and Bucky cursed under his breath.

"Stay in your foxholes!" He bellowed to his surrounding rifle company.

"Where's it coming from?" Meyers asked, his voice loud in Bucky's ear.

"Further up, second squad," hissed Bucky as he watched the medic disappear, presumably dropping into the wounded's foxhole.

Flash. Bang. Bucky felt the pinging of splintered wood bounce off his helmet and he dropped low. He could just barely see one of the two medics in his platoon running closer to the front of the line, answering the call of another wounded soldier.

"Who is it?" Meyers yelled over a new wave of shelling.

"I don't know!" Bucky yelled back, squinting his eyes through a fresh cloud of dirt that rose up. Meyers was muttering under his breath that words Bucky couldn't hear. He turned back around and dropped low, pressing his back against the hard earth. Closing his eyes he tried to take a few deep breaths to clam himself. As a rule, Bucky tried not to think much about home, but he couldn't help it. Counting the beats of his heart, he thought about sitting down at Mrs. Rogers' scrubbed kitchen table to a huge slice of cake and vanilla ice cream. The windows were open and a warm breeze drifted into the small kitchen, crammed with family and friends. The radio was buzzing with the announcer's call of another game, Bucky didn't know which. They were singing happy birthday as the night began to descend, beckoning Steve and Bucky back out to shoot roman candles at each other while the little kids ran through the streets with sparklers.

A shell slammed into one of the trees nearest their foxhole. Bucky blacked out for less than a minute but when he came to Meyers was writing in pain. Turning his head to the side he could see his companion gritting his teeth to hold back his shouting. A piece of the tree burst tore through his uniform, sticking straight out of his shoulder.

"MEDIC!"

X X X

Thunderstorms terrified Sadie when she was a little girl. The months of April and May were nothing short of torture for her when massive storm clouds rolled through central Arkansas. Each time the thunder split and lightning forked across the sky she would clap her hands over her ears and cower under her covers until the terror became so strong that she would run to the shelter of her parents' room. Norma Reid insisted that it was the sound of the thunder. Sadie's father, Martin Reid, remained convinced that it was the flashes of lightning and wind that howled and rattled the windows.

Sadie, however, knew that it was all of those things combined. The pressing fear that a tornado would rip through their lovely home and destroy all of their lovely things haunted her when she went to sleep on cloudy nights. In her seven year old mind, Sadie equated thunderstorms with total destruction, of having everything she loved ripped away from her. Her terror built to a fever pitch where often her parents would catch her trying to take one too many toys with her to bed so she could easily grab them if they had to dash to the storm cellar. It wasn't until she'd tried to bring them into her parents bed one night that her father knew things had gone too far.

One afternoon in late April, shortly after Sadie's eighth birthday, her father took her for a walk near the pond on the property. He'd taken off work at the hospital early for the sole purpose of talking to her about conquering her fears. Above them the storm clouds were beginning to roll in, promising to be another whopper of a system. Even walking out in the open sent Sadie into a fit of trepidation and the only thing that rooted her to the gravel path was her father's hand clutching hers.

"What scares you the most?" He'd asked. As long as Sadie lived, she would never forget her father's slow and soothing voice. Martin's southern accent rolled soft over his consonants and drew out his vowels. Every time she heard her father's voice, Sadie thought about white-washed porch swings and sweet tea.

"That it'll come and tear everything up," said Sadie, tears welling in her overlarge grey eyes. Each of her small fingers gripped her father's hand so tight, her knuckles were white. "And there's nothing I can do about it."

Martin stopped and turned to face Sadie, crouching in front of her. He gathered both of her hands in his and looked up at the rapidly darkening sky, then back to her. "There is always something you can do, Sade," he said firmly. "As long as you keep a steady head on your shoulders, you can take control of your own fate. Even when the storms roll through."

Sadie rocketed forward, throwing her arms around Martin and pressing her face into his shirt. "But I get so scared."

"There's nothing wrong with being scared. You just can't let your fear control you."

"How?" She wailed, fat tears beginning to fill her eyes.

"It takes time," said Martin thoughtfully. "But any time I'm scared before a surgery, I close my eyes and count to five and I think about one thing I can do to make the situation better."

Sadie had let him lead her back towards the house where her mother stood on the front porch, waiting for them. "But you're really brave, daddy. I'm not."

"You're just as brave as I am, Sadie. One day you'll see."

X X X

 _One._

Sadie had long grown out of her fear of thunderstorms, in fact storms were some of her favorite weather. But, she'd never forgotten her father's advice.

 _Two_.

Each breath she took rattled her chest but tempered her raw nerves. Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to shut out the sensory overload that whirled around her with the force of the most powerful tornado she could imagine.

 _Three_.

Beneath her booted feet, the angry earth rumbled and the wind through the tent flaps howled. It's just another storm, she told herself. All storms cleared, the dark clouds would eventually recede and leave nothing but the brilliant sun.

 _Four._

Until the storm cleared, she could still take control. She could always do something, a mantra she'd adopted and repeated to herself countless times over the years. A steady head had never steered her wrong and she knew she could put it to good use by triaging incoming patients and ensuring that the last runner had taken a jeep to the F Company aid station as requested.

 _Five_.

Sadie opened her eyes to find she was still in the center of a different kind, but far worse storm. There was movement everywhere and the sounds of shouting personnel, wailing soldiers, and shrill sirens of ambulances as they raced towards the evacuation hospital at the end of the line almost drowned out the booming, distant explosions. Almost. Each one, although several miles away, shook the unforgiving soil, causing the tent poles to waver uncertainly and normally steady hands to pause.

Overhead planes soared, the German contingent that apparently was shelling the daylights out A and B Companies but reaching as far in as E Company. The 107th was without air support and was so crushed up between the German line and the shore that even the field hospital was under threat of possible attack. White-faced doctors tried to keep everything moving at an orderly pace. But as Sadie looked around, she knew it was then nurses that were really keeping order. Over the course of her training Sadie had heard multiple people scoff at the idea of nurses so close to the front line, but as she watched Evelyn bodily hold a struggling soldier down while a doctor bandaged a bad abdominal wound, she thought the nurses would get the last laugh. Looking down at the white smock she wore over her olive drab uniform, she couldn't see the dirt and blood smears from her own work.

She'd just left her fifth patient of the night, a private from who knew which company. Already he was loaded on one of the returning ambulances. There hadn't been much Sadie could have done for him at the field hospital except insert a needle into his arm to administer plasma and change his bandage with the help of two medical technicians. Neither of the technicians, each eighteen at the most, had been able to handle the sight of the bleeding, raw stump where the patient's leg had once been, amputated just above the knee by an artillery blast.

But Sadie didn't have the luxury of looking away. Gritting her teeth, she'd checked the private's lapel for a morphine syrette to indicate if he'd been given the drug, peeled the bandage away, and pulled the large pieces of wood and debris that she could see in the less than stellar lighting of the main tent. Her patient, completely relaxed thanks to the morphine, babbled incoherently as she worked swiftly before applying a fresh round of sulfanilamide power and clean bandages. The technicians, looking extremely green around the gills, hauled the private off to the next waiting ambulance.

That had been only a moment ago and now Sadie was standing by to receive the next wounded.

"Nurse Reid!" Sadie turned her attention to Doctor Samuel Holmes as he strode towards her. A gifted surgeon and unfailingly kind man, Doctor Holmes was a favorite with the nurses. "Did you get that kid with the missing leg taken care of?"

"Yes, sir!" She replied. More wailing from ambulance sirens pierced the air. "He's getting out in time."

"And that sergeant with shrapnel damage to his arm?"

"His wounds weren't as major, he's resting in recovery now. He can wait to take an ambulance to the evac hospital in the morning after the critical patients go."

Doctor Holmes nodded, his face relaxing a fraction. "Good work, Nurse Reid. Take the breather and check on your other patients while you have a chance. I'm sure another wave will be coming soon."

"Yes, sir," she replied. Doctor Holmes started to walk away and then he paused. "You're all handling this so well. The army thought bringing nurses so close to the front lines would be a disaster, but honestly I can't think of anything better."

Sadie barely had time to find a smile for Doctor Holmes when a fresh stretcher burst through the tent flaps, carried by two runners. "Nurse Reid, you're with me," he said as the runners set the stretcher on the cot nearest the tent flaps.

Their patient, a young Hispanic man was shivering. Sadie rushed to his side and reached up, peeling his eyelid back and tilting his head towards the light. His pupils were unresponsive and he stared straight past her into the distance. Glancing down, she tried and failed to swallow her hiss of comprehension. A large white field bandage stretched across his abdomen. Doing her best to hold him steady, Sadie watched as Doctor Holmes peeled the bandage away to reveal a large wound that had literally scraped the surface of his skin off, revealing muscle and silvery connective tissue.

"I don't wanna die," the soldier muttered and his voice slipped into fluid Spanish. His hands shook at his sides and Sadie reached for one.

"You're not going to die Corporal," she promised as Doctor Holmes began to work.

"You'll be just fine, son. It's not that bad." Doctor Holmes echoed his statement. "Nurse Reid, get some gauze and mop up this blood, I can't see what I'm doing."

Sadie didn't think, she didn't flinch. Instead she reached for the fresh tray of medical supplies that a technician had placed out at some point. Ripping the gauze package open, she began to gently wipe the blood away, clearing the field of vision for Doctor Holmes. Behind them another stretcher came in bearing a soldier who was using curse words and phrases Sadie had never heard before. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Betty dart forward to help.

A head popped into the tent.

"I need a runner! F Company's aid station has at least two wounded to bring in." The runners were supposed to be stationed near the entrance of the main tent, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. "I need a runner!"

No answer. Sadie continued to help Doctor Holmes, assuming that all of the runners were out until she heard. "Come on, get yourself together! F Company's aid station is waiting for us!"

Both Sadie and Doctor Holmes turned to look from where they had almost stabilized their patient. One of the runners that Sadie recognized from earlier in the day sat on the ground. He'd placed his head between his knees and he locked his fingers behind his neck. "I'm not doing it. I'm not fucking going," he kept saying as he shook his head. Doctor Holmes frowned.

"Nurse Reid, I've got the Corporal here, go get that man on his feet. If he won't do his duty then go in his place."

"Yes, sir!"

Jogging towards the driver they locked grim eyes and turned their attention to the runner. Sadie crouched low, her clinical eyes evaluating the private's pale, sweaty skin and his visible trembling. The smell of fresh vomit wafted from him and she could see the stains on his uniform. A frown pulled her lips downward, all of the nurses had been instructed to see the signs of panic, but unfortunately it was hard to talk a terrified man off his ledge.

"Private, what's your name?"

"It's Jordan," said the driver, standing nearby. He shifted his weight and cast a worried look back out of the tent. "F Company's been screaming into my radio for the last five minutes, I don't got time to wait. You got any other runners?"

"They're all out in the field," said Sadie darkly, the driver swore under his breath. "Private Jordan, look at me, you're needed at F Company's aid station," she said sharply. Instead of waiting, Sadie forced a hand under his chin and grasped it, pulling him up to look at her. Except Private Jordan's glassy eyes stared off just like her other injured men. Not all wounds are visible, one of her superior officers had said during training.

"I can't do it," he said, his voice giving out.

"I know it's scary but you need to get on your feet, Private Jordan you have to go!" She shouted and gave him a gentle shake, trying to force him back to reality. The ground shook beneath their feet. Jordan shuddered and cowered lower, shaking his head. He rocked uncertainly, his helmet slipping to the side.

"S-send Private Lukas!"

"Private Lukas is out at C Company's aid station, you're the only runner that can go! You have to go! You have to go now! Get up now! That's an order!"

But Jordan covered his head with his hands. Sadie looked around hopeless as the driver jogged toward them. Another shell shook the heart with a mighty boom. "Nurse! We've got to go! Can he go?"

Sadie took a miserable look at Corporal Jordan and felt resolve harden as the thought back to Doctor Holmes' order. "No, but I can!" She shouted back.

Sadie got to her feet and cast a pitying look at Private Jordan. The driver looked at her astounded. "But you're just a nurse!"

"And I know a hell of a lot more about tending wounded men than you do! Now let's go!" The driver paused long enough to evaluate Sadie's hardened expression and her fists clenched at her side. Swiftly, she untied her apron and paused long enough to shove it into Private Jordan's hands. "Go find Doctor Holmes, tell him I've gone in your place. He'll help you out," she said kindly. Blankly, Private Jordan nodded. Turning back to the driver, Sadie glared at him. "Are you going to stand there all night? Or am I going to have to drive the jeep myself?"

The driver's concern broke and he gave her a breathless grin, one that clearly said she'd earned his respect. Together the tore out of the tent entrance and got in the jeep. "I'm Corporal Davies, ma'am! Sorry about your relay man!"

"I'm not surprised! He was one of the few shouting about how many Germans he was going to kill all while saving countless lives," said Sadie from where she sat in the front seat. Corporal Davies barked in laughter. "I'm Nurse Reid."

"You're alright Nurse Reid. Now when we get there there'll be an open line between the front and the aid station. Stay under cover and move when I tell you to."

Sadie cast Davies a sidelong glance. "You know I outrank you, right?"

Davies grinned at her, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Yeah, but you've never been this close to the front line before. We can all benefit from the experience of others."

Sadie's ears rang from the sound of explosions that grew louder and more violent the closer they got to the front line. "Can't argue with that," she replied over the din of the mortar rounds.

The aid station was nothing more than an open sided tent with the large white and red cross stamped on the top flap. Upturned medicine crates supported the ends of stretchers on which two wounded men lay. Old gas lamps hung beneath the tent, providing narrow beams of light over the medical officer working furiously over one of his patients. Sadie jumped out of the jeep before it stopped and jogged over. The medical officer glanced up and then did a double-take when Sadie came into relief.

"What the fuck is a nurse doing here? If medical battalion HQ finds out they'll lose their shit!"

"Relay man froze and the runners are overwhelmed. It was me or nobody at all," snapped Sadie in reply, rolling up her sleeves and jostling a terrified private out of the way. The man on the stretcher lay in a prone position, his pant leg torn open to reveal a gaping wound, peppered with large wood fragments from the fragile trees that must have exploded above him. He was unnaturally still and out of reflex Sadie glanced up to see the needle from a morphine syrette pushed through his collar. "Besides, I won't tell if you don't."

He nodded once and then looked hopelessly down at the soldier. "There isn't much I can do for him here."

The medic watched as Sadie reached forward to rotate his leg open and where the private had balked at the idea of touching the gruesome wound, she pressed her clean palm down to help stymy the bleeding and began helping pull the splintered wood out. The medic hissed at the sight and Sadie shot him a concerned glance. Front line medics were no more than regular men who'd been unceremoniously slapped with the title. Reaching out, she grabbed the medic's hand and force him to take her place. "Hold your hand there, help plug that bleeder. Feel it out until the tip of your finger hits the source."

The medical slid his finger up the line and found the source where the bleed bubbled up. "Right here?"

"Nicely done. Let's get a bandage plugging the hole and wrap him up." Together they managed to hold off the bleeding and got him bandaged up. Sadie accepted a rag and wiped her hands off and watched as Davies and two other men hauled the soldier onto the front litter.

"Thanks," said the medic breathlessly. "He's had one syrette but I've got no plasma."

"There's some back at the field hospital. One of the doctors there can sort him out before he goes to the evac hospital."

"You're with the 80th then?"

"Yes, first clearing platoon," replied Sadie and she watched as Corporal Davies and the private attending the aid station loaded the man up onto the stretcher attached to the front of the jeep.

"Well, all I can say is thank god for Army nurses," he said and grinned at her. Sadie started to jog back to the jeep when a strangled shout came from the thin tree line. Two shadowy figures burst from the tree line, bodily dragging a third man behind them. Corporal Davies paused from his spot in the driver's side of the jeep and took his hand off the clutch. Sadie and medic jogged forward to intercept the two sergeants. Their charge wasn't in nearly as bad of shape and Sadie helped the medic attend to his shrapnel wounds until a third yell came from the tree line.

"Can you go help them? I'm almost finished here," said the medic.

Sadie nodded and paused beneath the tent as an airplane roared overhead. As soon as it was clear the ran the short distance to the tree line as someone shouted. "MEDIC! I need a medic!"

She slid to a stop just inside the tree line. A tall man was kneeling over another, trying to keep compression down on his shoulder. "What do we have?" She asked in a quiet voice.

"Nurse?" The man asked in a shocked sort of voice. Sadie fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"It was starting to get slow at the hospital so I thought I'd take a walk," she said sarcastically and to her surprise heard the soft chuckle of the man. In the slivers of moonlight that broke through the trees she could see his handsome face. "I'm Nurse Reid."

"Lieutenant McAllister," he said. "Must be some crazy night if the nurses are out here."

Sadie helped him shift the wounded soldier into a shaft of light to better see the wound in his shoulder. "It's just me," she explained and grasped the edges of the private's uniform, further ripping it open. "It doesn't look bad," she paused, not knowing the kid's name.

"Private Meyers," supplied Lieutenant McAllister. "Tree burst overhead caught his foxhole."

"Were you with him?" She asked as she used the blood bandage to mop up more of the blood with one hand while fishing in her pack for another.

"Nah, I was two over. The guy with him should be here any second to help me get Meyers across, he was grabbing the kid's helmet."

"I can help you," she said but stopped short at footfall. Break in the shelling meant she could hear everything including Private Meyer's rasping breath, the erratic beat of her heart and the voice that accompanied their new companion. Sadie lifted her head and her jaw dropped as Sergeant Barnes dropped to his knees next to them, helmet jammed over his head and rifle slung to his back.

Both of them recognized each other and opened their mouths to speak but words never left their mouths. At that very moment a plane soared overhead and dropped its payload. Sadie only barely saw the impact of the shell as it fell right into the center of the aid station. The rickety tent, jeep, and the men attending all went sky high as the force of the explosion pushed them backwards, her helmet falling back off her head. A strong arm came over her shoulder, holding her back and she looked up to see Bucky's horrified face as he kept her steady, both of them having fallen into the dirt.

X X X

Bucky was beginning to think the universe was trying to tell him something. Signs from God or the stars aligning in some weird formation or some unknown force plotting out the most unbelievable situations imaginable were just a few of the theories that he come up with. Because as he and Nurse Reid drug a howling Private Meyers back to his foxhole, Bucky could not come up with a single rational explanation for how out of all the women in the whole army he was paired up with Nurse Reid yet again.

Lieutenant McAllister, thoroughly stunned at the gruesome scene of the burning aid station, had ordered Bucky and Nurse Reid back to a foxhole for safety and to take Meyers with them. The aerial assault had begun, effectively cutting the wounded off from help and Nurse Reid off from the evacuation hospital where she belonged. A series of unfortunate events had led her to the front line and Lieutenant McAllister, recognizing that Meyers was in desperate need of medical attention pulled rank. So, Sadie grasped one side of Meyer's uniform and Bucky the other. Without a single word, she gave him a massive tug and Bucky followed while the bombs continued to fall.

Maybe this was Steve's doing, he thought as they moved as fast as they could. Bucky wondered if his best friend was sitting in his apartment sticking pins into a voodoo doll of Bucky's likeness, howling with laughter at the notion of Bucky being stuck in a foxhole with the one nurse in the whole damn army who was completely immune to him. Perhaps Steve had stuck a pin in Bucky's heart because he could feel it absolutely hammering and it had nothing to do with the carnage he'd experienced thus far. Had Steve put a pin in Bucky's brain? Bucky certainly had wasted plenty of time thinking about Nurse Reid, despite her apparent distaste for him.

"This way," said Bucky and at last, they reached the foxhole. "Come on Meyers, back in you go."

Bucky looked to help Nurse Reid into the foxhole but heard the soft thud of her booted feet hit the bottom and she raised her arms to help Meyers down. He could hardly see her face, but Bucky knew that she was still shaking because he was. They'd seen the brutal killing of five men right in front of their eyes, that was enough to rattle anyone to their core.

"Come on, Private," she said gently and Meyers slid back into the foxhole. Bucky dropped in next to him.

"What can I do?" He asked.

"He's soaked this bandage," said Nurse Reid. "There's a fresh one in my bag, grab it and a sulfanilamide packet, that will help stymy the bleeding."

Meyers groaned as he leaned back against the wall of the foxhole, tilting his head upwards. "Goddamn planes, I hate this fucking place, I really do."

Bucky pursed his lips. "Everyone hates it Meyers and watch your language, we've got company."

Meyers chuckled. "Right, I forgot. Excuse me for a minute while I clean up the sitting room and check on the roast."

Nurse Reid's soft laugh filled the tense are between them. "No need to stand on ceremony, but I'll take a gin and tonic if you've got it." The tension broke and Bucky was glad of it. Ever since coming to to find Meyers cursing like a sailor and staring horrified at the chunk of tree in his shoulder Bucky had been existing in a state of barely controlled panic. "It's not bad, you'll be just fine."

"You think I'll get a purple heart?" Meyers asked as Nurse Reid tenderly moved the scraps of his uniform out of the way. She took the sulfanilamide powder Bucky held out, ripped it open with her teeth and dumped its contents over the wound. "I bet a purple heart'll impress Millie Caulfield back home."

"Your girl?" Asked Nurse Reid softly.

"Only in my dreams," he muttered and hissed.

Bucky opened the bandage kit and handed it to Nurse Reid. "Lift him away from the wall," she said and Bucky leaned forward. They were painfully close as Sadie pushed the compress against Meyers' shoulder and reached beneath Bucky's arms to wrap the bandage. "That's the best I can do until transport can be reestablished, just try to relax and get some sleep. But to answer your question, yes. I think this is good enough for a purple heart, you're only lucky it wasn't worse."

"Lucky?" Echoed Meyers. "No offense Nurse but Buck here and I are sharing a foxhole with a gorgeous woman. We're probably the luckiest sons of bitches in the whole army."

Bucky grimaced but Nurse Reid just chuckled and fell lightly against the foxhole wall. She wiped her bloody hands off on the legs of her pants. "Just don't let Millie Caulfield hear you say that or you'll never win her heart. Thank you for your help, Sergeant Barnes," she said finally addressing Bucky.

In the dim light, Bucky could see her shining eyes on him and he shrugged. "No problem, Nurse Reid. Just glad to have someone here to help out. But I have to ask…"

"How did a nurse end up in a foxhole on the front line?" She asked, exhausting pulling at her voice, bringing out her southern accent. "Let's just say there's a runner back at the field hospital who is having a worse night than I am."

"Ah," said Bucky. "So I shouldn't expect to see you outrunning German bombs any time soon?"

"I sincerely hope I never see the outside of the hospital tent again, Sergeant Barnes."

"Bucky," he said firmly. "Everyone calls me Bucky."

Soft snores in the miraculous quiet told Bucky that Meyers had finally passed out.

"Sarah Grace," said Nurse Reid. Bucky didn't even have to look at her to know she was smiling, she could hear it in her voice. "My friends and family call me Sadie."

"Can I call you Sadie?" He asked, rolling over the name in his head. Sarah Grace Reid. Sadie Reid. He decided that he liked Sadie, especially considering Sarah was Steve's mother's name.

"Buck Sergeant, if we live through this you can call me whatever you want."

Bucky laughed. He could see that Sadie was smiling, her eyes closed and face finally relaxed, clearly pleased with her little joke. "Buck Sergeant, I see what you did there, real funny."

"I thought so," she said. The distant rumbling of artillery fire startled them both. "So what do you do to pass the time?"

Bucky made a face. "Normally we play poker, however seeing as you betrayed my tell to Dum Dum, I don't have a dollar to my name to bet."

Sadie's laugh was light and musical and intoxicating. Bucky quietly agreed with Meyers that he was likely one of the luckiest men in the whole army, sitting in a filthy foxhole across from Sadie. "I am sorry about that, but the opportunity was just too good to pass up."

"Yeah, I probably would have done the same thing."

"I don't doubt it," she said. Meyers moaned softly in his sleep and Sadie slipped back into nurse mode, moving to check on him. The night wore on, punctuated by Bucky and Sadie's sporadic conversation between shelling rounds. Sleep finally overtook Bucky a couple of hours before dawn, unaware that Sadie's head had dropped off onto his shoulder, her breath soft on the lapel of his shirt.

 **A/N: Bombshells! Sadie actually doing nursing things! Bucky finally knows Sadie's first name! I hope you liked this chapter…I giggled with glee writing the part about Steve with the Bucky voodoo doll and now I want to see fan art of it haha.**

 **Anyway next chapter continues the Italian campaign and Peggy makes her first appearance! More Sadie and Bucky dialogue to come!**

 **Please leave some love, thoughts, favorite parts, questions etc.! Much love - Kappa**


	5. Mornings After and First Times

**A/N: Greetings from sunny Colorado! This chapter picks up where we left off. Before you dig into it I should probably note that I took some slight liberties with the 107** **th** **and it's movements. The 107** **th** **is loooosely tracking the same route that the 3** **rd** **Infantry Division took through Sicily in WWII, but I'm also working on my own pace so forgive the historical inaccuracies. I also have no idea whether ANC nurses were trained in recognizing the different sources of battle wounds or if Sadie would have really known much about the damage that bombs can do…but it matters later in this story and it's the Marvel-verse so stranger things definitely happen.**

 **Thank you a million times over to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and followed! I usually send PM's to people who review, but still, thank you for your kind words and encouragement!**

 **The usual language warnings apply.**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Marvel or CA…if I did my monthly student loan statement wouldn't make me cry.**

 **Chapter Five – Mornings After and First Times**

Bucky woke shortly before dawn. Roused from uneasy dreams, Bucky was temporarily disoriented unsure if he was wandering through a version of Brooklyn he didn't recognize or if he was still in Sicily. Hard earth supported his body which was stiff from sleeping in a seating position all night, reminding Bucky that he was nowhere close to his bed in New York. There was, however, a beautiful woman near him as he recalled the previous night's events. Fighting the grin that pulled at his lips, Bucky wondered if Nurse Sadie Reid had gotten any sleep at all after her first taste of life on the front line.

Opening his eyes, Bucky was still surrounded by the cover of the rapidly waning darkness. If he squinted hard enough, he could almost see the first rays of the morning sun peeking through the half-destroyed trees. Inhaling deep, he caught the unpleasant combination of burnt wood, charred earth, and sweat. Bucky could hear the soft rustle of fabric and two low voices. Sadie was crouching next to Private Meyers. In the steadily brightening morning, Meyers' face was just visible. His eyes were screwed up tight and his mouth drawn into a line, the skin surrounding his lips unnaturally pale. Dark circles clung to the undersides of his eyes, further highlighted by his bloodless cheeks. Sweat beaded at his forehead and Bucky knew there was no faking the unbelievable pain he must have been in.

"It hurts so bad, Nurse Reid," he said through gritted teeth.

Sadie's eagle eyes didn't miss a symptom or sign of Meyers' suffering. "I know it does," she said. Bucky enjoyed her southern lilt, but found it especially soothing when she used it for calming purposes. Carefully, Sadie pulled the bandage away from Meyers' wound and pursed her lips. Clinical and serious was how Bucky remembered Sadie from the NYPOE and the _Queen Victoria_ ; it turned out that she was no different when dug into a foxhole in the middle of war-torn Italy. "The good news is the bleeding stopped sometime in the night. I'm sure that we can call in a jeep to get us back to the field hospital."

"I've got it," said Bucky. Both Sadie and Meyers started. Pivoting her head to look at him, Sadie's mouth opened softly and though it was dark, Bucky swore he saw a blush swirl into her cheeks.

"Sergeant Barnes, I didn't know you were awake. But, yes, calling in a jeep would be great, thank you," she said.

Bucky couldn't decipher the expression on her face. She seemed somewhere between worried, exhausted, scared, and irritated. Perhaps it was all of these things as he pushed himself out of his foxhole and hurried to another containing the radioman. Crouching low and keeping his helmet on, Bucky tapped the kid awake.

"Hey, radio the 80th to send a jeep. We've got a wounded guy that needs to go out," he muttered.

A head popped up from the next closest foxhole while the radioman started up the radio. Lieutenant McAllister's face came into focus as Bucky shifted his weight to look at him. "Everything alright?"

"Private Meyers isn't doing so hot. Nurse Reid needs to get him back to the field hospital." Lieutenant McAllister braced his weight with his hands, hauling himself out of his foxhole. The radioman was hard at work relaying the message when McAllister told Bucky he wanted to see Meyers himself. Bucky waited for McAllister to sling his rifle over his shoulder.

"Jeep's on its way, sir," said the radioman to Bucky. He thanked the kid and then hurried back towards his foxhole with McAllister.

"Everything else go okay? With Nurse Reid being there?"

"Fine, she took care of Meyers and hopefully got a little bit of sleep," said Bucky.

"Hell of a thing to do, going in the runner's place."

Bucky shrugged. "She said one of her commanding officers ordered her to go after the runner choked."

When they came back, Bucky found Sadie had managed to help Meyers into a more comfortable position. McAllister crouched right at the edge of the foxhole and Meyers tilted his head back in order to see his officer. "Hey Lieutenant," he said groggily.

"How're you feeling, Private?"

"Been better but I've got the best damn medical care in the whole army right here," he said and fondly patted Sadie's hand which rest on her knee. Sadie frowned slightly, arching a manicured eyebrow.

"I gave him morphine," she admitted.

Meyers was indeed somewhere else, his body slumped slightly as his muscles continued to relax. Sadie had threaded the morphine syrette through his field jacket lapel. "Is he going to be alright?" Asked McAllister, turning his attention to Sadie.

Bucky watched as her eyes landed on McAllister and grew wide. It occurred to Bucky that she'd likely never seen the Lieutenant in any sort of light before and was just now appreciating the man's All-American qualities. Something akin to annoyance bristled in the pit of Bucky's stomach as Sadie's mouth opened a fraction before shutting rapidly to form her thoughts.

"He'll be fine," she said at length, casting a pitying glance to Meyers who was dozing lightly at her side. "He just needs rest and better attention than I can give him here."

McAllister nodded. "Sergeant Barnes radioed in a jeep for you, it should be here any minute. Here, let me give you a hand out."

The good Lieutenant then held out one of his large hands and Sadie grasped it. Her long, narrow fingers were practically dwarfed by McAllister's but he had no problem pulling Sadie out of the foxhole. Dawn was upon them now and Bucky found himself trying not to openly stare at Sadie. In their previous encounters, Sadie's hair was expertly curled and pinned away from her face to reveal porcelain smooth skin, lightly winged eyeliner, and cherry red lips. Seeing any grown woman makeup free was jarring to Bucky; most of the girls he knew never left the house without a full face after they reached a certain age.

But the morning sun did justice to Sadie that coat of makeup could never do. Somehow, Bucky had missed the smattering of freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose. Without the dark eyeliner distracting him, Bucky could see a smoky ring that looked the outside of her vivid grey irises. Her full lips were petal pink with a natural angel's bow and were set above her stubborn chin. Flyaways of dark hair escaped her updo, worming their way out from beneath her helmet and framing her beautiful face.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she said kindly and promptly ignored him in favor of her patient. Lieutenant McAllister's face fell slightly, as though he were expecting more accolades for his moment of gentlemanliness. Bucky fought the urge to smirk and instead knelt next to the foxhole.

"Ready to get out of here, Meyers?" He asked.

"Yes," said Meyers, his voice significantly relaxed in light of the morphine.

Sadie's profile came into his peripheral vision. "Try not to jostle his shoulder too much," she said. McAllister helped Bucky get Meyers out of the foxhole. The kid swayed uncertainly on his feet before he took a sideway step and stumbled right into Bucky. Catching Meyers, Bucky kept a strong arm around his waist.

"I've got to get up to the front of the line to see what's going on down in the town," said McAllister. "Nurse Reid, I can't thank you enough for all your help last night. I hope we can meet again under better circumstances."

Bucky cringed internally. Did he sound that bad when he tried to flirt with women? Sadie, like any other well brought up southerner, took McAllister's flattery in stride with a smile and a delicate handshake, despite the fact that her hands were flecked with dried blood and dirt. "Certainly, Lieutenant. It was a pleasure meeting you, all things considered."

"Sergeant Barnes, make sure that Nurse Reid and Private Meyers get on their jeep back to the hospital."

"Yes, sir," he said, not that he had much of a choice in the matter. Sadie's arm came to rest above Bucky's around Meyer's waist as she took a spot on the private's other side.

"Thought you could use some help," she offered.

Together, they set off, half-dragging and half-pushing Meyers through the narrow tree line towards the rendezvous point. Meyers was still mostly incoherent and for a while they walked in silence, too focused on their charge to say anything. Bucky reflected on the small miracle that he'd survived the night and the strange circumstances that went along with it. "Did you get any sleep?"

Sadie's question startled him, derailing his train of thought. "A couple of hours. What about you?"

"Roughly the same. I woke up once or twice though. I don't think I'll ever get used to sleeping in foxholes."

Bucky squinted into the daylight as the trees thinned out and the blazing morning began to announce itself in all its glory. "Me either. The room service is terrible."

"So is that joke," she teased.

Bucky grinned. "Sorry, my sense of humor isn't functional until after I've had my morning coffee."

"I know the feeling. Try being pleasant first thing in the morning to a hospital full of patients who'd rather be dead than stuck in a bed."

Bucky liked the way Sadie said 'try,' drawing out the vowel low and slow. Now that he knew her name, a new curiosity burned a hole in his brain. "Alabama," he said suddenly. "How can you not be from Alabama."

"'Bama?" Sadie repeated and he heard the mild amusement return to her voice. She was apparently immune to his charm, but at least Sadie had a sense of humor. "Alabama, now that's a good guess, Buck Sergeant."

"And?"

"You're dead wrong. But it's still a good guess."

Bucky opened his mouth to retort back but stopped when they came out of the trees. The charred remains of the aide station were still smoking from previous night's explosion. A warm breeze stirred up the air and sent the overpowering smell of burnt flesh towards them. Sadie raised a hand to cover her nose.

"Good heavens," whispered Sadie. As one, they lowered Meyers to sit up against a tree. "I should check and see if there are any salvageable medical supplies."

"Someone should get dog tags," muttered Bucky. He kept his rifle at the ready and the two of them crossed the open stretch of land to the blackened remains of the aide tent, crates and men who attended it. The destroyed jeep was a twisted, horrifying mess.

"I can't believe that human beings are capable of doing this to each other," she whispered picking her way through the wreckage. Bucky privately agreed with her and silently hoped he would never be capable of doing something quite this terrible to another person. He knew he wouldn't escape the war without getting blood on his hands, but the pivotal question was how much? Frowning, he crouched next to the scorched remains of a person and started to try and discern his dog tags. Something caught his eye.

Switching gears, Bucky reached out to touch the edge of a piece of shell. Fortunately it was cool enough to touch and he grasped it, pulling it from the unforgiving earth. For the most part it was blackened and mangled but he could see part of it was somewhat undamaged. In shining red paint, he could see half of a circle and within that circle he saw half of a red skull with tentacles coming out beneath it.

"What is that?" Sadie asked, appearing at his side.

"Don't know. This never came up in boot camp when we learned the Nazi symbols."

"Whoever it is, they did a number out here. There's nothing left to salvage," said Sadie grimly.

A distant rumbling diverted them from the piece of shell in Bucky's hand. The jeep steadily drew closer and closer until it trundled to a halt in front of them. Sadie gladly collapsed in the front seat while the driver and runner helped Bucky collect Meyers, securing him to the litter on the back of the jeep. Bucky paused at the side of the jeep. Sadie gave him a tired, evaluating glance.

"Thank you for your help," she said at length. "It was an interesting night."

"One I hope we never repeat, no offense. I don't ever want to see you so close to the front line again."

Sadie stifled a yawn. "That makes two of us, Buck Sergeant." She suddenly turned very serious. "Take care of yourself. I don't want to see you in the field hospital after you all take the town."

Up until that point, Bucky had completely forgotten that F company was due to take the small town that had been the source of their torture most of the night. "I'll do my best, Nurse Sadie Reid."

She gave him a rare, full smile, her nose wrinkling slightly. Bucky waited and waved once, watching as the jeep sped away from immediate danger and towards the field hospital. Once, Sadie turned around, at first to check on Meyers. But then, she raised her gaze to Bucky, giving him a half-wave before the jeep disappeared and Bucky was alone again. For a long moment, Bucky considered what he should do before he grabbed the piece of shell and jogged back to the line so he could pass the word to Lieutenant McAllister. Perhaps he knew what the red skull insignia meant.

X X X

Sadie was glad for the morning air that rushed past her face, cooling the blush in her cheeks. From her spot at the front of the jeep she could see the dazzling sunrise, cresting over the craggy land and lighting up a perfect cerulean sky. With the jeep moving at such a fast clip, she couldn't feel the heat that would be oppressive within a few hours' time. So, she took the aviator sunglasses she'd shoved in her musette bag, a gift from her father's best friend, and put them over her eyes for the drive.

Her driver was silent, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to a tune she couldn't hear. Perhaps he, too, was reeling from the night before. Though if Sadie had to hazard a guess, his night wasn't half as bizarre as hers had been. In a thousand years she'd never expected to end up on the front lines, but she'd survived her first night in Italy there. The shelling went on intermittently through most of the night until roughly two hours before dawn when she finally fell asleep. She'd woken up from a series of blurred and unremarkable dreams to find she'd dozed right off onto Bucky's shoulder. Even now the memory of it caused the blush to return to her cheeks, beating uncomfortably.

What would her mother think if she knew? Or her father? More importantly, what did Sadie think? She'd never spent a night with a man in any capacity and now she'd spent the night in a foxhole with two. Against her will, her traitorous mind drifted to how comfortable Bucky's shoulder had been beneath her cheek, set at the right height and firm without being too hard. She'd moved before he woke, unsure if she could survive the embarrassment if he'd caught her.

Fortunately, she'd had Private Meyers to worry about and taking care of him had saved her from any further compromising situations. Bucky had been a saint though, even she could admit that to herself. Without his help, dressing Meyers' wound and caring for him through the night would have been infinitely more difficult, as would have getting off the front line. Sadie found through their brief snippets of conversation, that Bucky was remarkably perceptive, despite his inability to guess her home state. He'd even made her laugh a couple of times, talking about basic training and explaining how he'd ended up the Staff Sergeant of one of F Company's rifle squads. Sadie held no romantic designs towards Bucky, but she didn't mind the idea of having another friend, even if they would hardly see one another.

Well, Sadie hoped for Bucky's sake that they would hardly see each other. There really was only one reason why he would see her in the future and her stomach rebelled at the thought. Her thoughts turned down a new avenue, revisiting the aid station and what was now left of it.

As part of their training all of the nurses in the Army Nursing Corps had taken special classes about recognizing different types of wounds – bullets, bayonets, bombs, and more. They'd been trained to know how different caliber bullets caused damage and the types of wounds to expect in the field from various artillery rounds and types of combat. Sadie had spent hours pouring over the photographs, descriptions, and treatment methods for wounds caused by aerial assaults. Yet, in all of the manuals and training material she'd never seen any evidence that a bomb could cause the kind of fire that was hot enough to disintegrate flesh and char bone.

Sadie told herself that the aid station had been a direct hit, perhaps from a low flying aircraft. But that didn't explain how narrow the blast radius had been or that the crates she'd seen were nothing more than sawdust beneath her boots. Even the jeep was destroyed beyond recognition, and that was nothing to say of the bodies she'd seen, so destroyed that Bucky couldn't recover their dog tags. Neither of them knew the half of the symbol on the shell, but the red skull and tentacles left a bad taste in Sadie's mouth.

Her thoughts kept her occupied until the 80th field hospital came in sight. From a distance, Sadie could see a few people milling back and forth. In her entire life she thought she'd never be happy to see a collection of olive drab tents. But she was borderline ecstatic to see her makeshift home. Exhaustion drug her whole body down towards the earth, beckoning her to roll out of the jeep and sleep where she fell.

The jeep slowed down upon approach and Sadie sat up a little straighter when three figures outside of the main tent came into focus. Betty and Evelyn took off running towards the jeep as soon as it came to rolling stop.

"Sadie!" They both shouted as one.

Sadie barely had enough time to get both of her feet on the ground when her friends collided with her. "Thank God you're okay!"

"We were so worried!"

Betty and Evelyn's shouts garbled together as they became a tangle of limbs and a blur of hair colors. Still, Sadie was elated to see them both and she managed to find the strength to wrap her arms around them.

"I'm fine," she promised.

"Doctor Holmes will be happy to see you too, he's been so upset with himself, ordering you out to the front when that runner went nuts." Evelyn said, holding onto Sadie's dirty hand.

"Things didn't go exactly according to plan, but I promise I'm okay," she said and looked over Betty's shoulder to see Doctor Holmes slumped in relief. He gave her a warm smile which Sadie returned in full measure. At length, Betty and Evelyn relinquished Sadie and went to help the runner bring Meyers into the main tent. Sadie fell into step with Doctor Holmes as they followed.

"I think apologies are in order Nurse Reid," said Doctor Holmes, his voice weary. Sadie wondered if any of the hospital staff had gotten any sleep at all. "When I sent you in the runner's place I never imagined," he broke off uncomfortably. "I can assure you it won't happen again."

Sadie patted the doctor's shoulder. "It's really alright, the first-hand experience on the front can only help me be better," she said, trying to make him feel better.

Doctor Holmes stopped and placed both of his hands on Sadie's shoulders, facing her. Seriousness clouded his face and he fixed her with a beady eye. "Nurse Reid, you very nearly died last night. We all thought you had when word came back to us that the aid station had been bombed. We didn't find out you were alive until this morning. So please, accept my apology and do not make light of the situation."

Sadie was stunned. They'd all thought she had died? "I won't, Doctor," she promised. "And I accept your apology. Now, what can I do?"

"Go get something eat and clean up. Your patients have been taken care of and once you're refreshed you can attend to Private Meyers and help us prepare for the incoming wounded. We're expecting a fresh wave once the 107th moves forward."

Sadie wouldn't turn down the opportunity to rest up and she hastily exited the main hospital tent before someone could stop her. The section of women's tents were set up close to the main tent, but clearly marked off with signs warding off the men. Sadie's mobile abode was home to nothing more than a cot, her bedroll, and the musette bag with the few personal items she carried with her. Once inside her tent with a basin of water, she pulled her helmet off and washed her hands. It wasn't until she sat down on the edge of her cot did Sadie realize she was shaking.

The impact of her night finally hit with the force of a speeding train. Her friends thought she'd died and now that she looked back on it, Sadie was remarkably lucky to be alive. Whether it was God himself or another greater force that put Sadie in the tree line with Bucky and Lieutenant McAllister, Sadie didn't know and she didn't care. In her mind's eye she saw the charred remains of the aid station, she could have been one of those bodies, dead before she could have done any good. Dropping her head between her knees, Sadie tried to stop the dizziness that caused the green world around her to spin and her stomach to tie itself into knots. A wave of nausea rolled over Sadie and she barely had enough time to claw her way out of her tent at the edge of the women's camp before the contents of her stomach came up in a violent way. Acid burned her throat as she continued to vomit until nothing remained but the hollow ache in her chest and the cold sweat that clung to her lower back.

Sadie waited until she was certain she was finished and then trudged back to her tent, wiping her mouth off with her sleeve as she went. It seemed inevitable, thought Sadie miserably; if she'd escaped sickness on the troop ship then something would get to her sooner or later. Personally, she felt her horror at the gruesome reality of combat was a pretty solid reason for losing her lunch. But it wasn't a reason to lay down and quit and so Sadie brushed her teeth and washed up as best as she could before dressing in a clean uniform after doing her best to wash the stains out of the other and hanging it to dry.

Evelyn found her some time later in the mess, sitting alone and watching the other hospital personnel as they milled about. Dropping onto the rough bench next to Sadie, she stretched her arms over her head, yawning as she did.

"Private Meyers is going to be fine, Doc Holmes says the work you did in the field kept him from slowly bleeding to death."

The instant relief Sadie felt went a long way to calming her still upset stomach. "Good, I was worried this morning when he started to go so pale."

"So is it true that you spent the night in his foxhole?"

Sadie pulled a face, normally it was Betty making comments that could make a sailor blush. "You don't have to make it sound so salacious," she muttered grumpily.

"Oh, sorry, let me try again," said Evelyn in a deadpan voice. "Is it true that you spent the night in a foxhole with Private Meyers and Sergeant Barnes? There's really no better way to phrase it, Sade."

Sadie scowled all the same. "It's true. After the aid station was hit all transportation between the line and the remaining aid stations and the field hospital were cut off. I was ordered into a foxhole to continue tending to Meyers as best as I could. There's really nothing more to it."

Sadie didn't want to tell Evelyn about her small conversations with Bucky or about waking up with her head on his shoulder. As much as Sadie loved Evelyn she knew that her friend would make a bigger deal than necessary out of those facts. What was the point in stirring up trouble when there really wasn't anything to stir up? Yet, another far less rational part of Sadie wanted to keep the small facts they'd revealed to each other to herself, as though they were secrets to be fiercely guarded. Sadie knew it was stupid, everything they'd talked about was either related to PFC Meyers or completely mundane. Even then, she didn't really want Evelyn to know.

"Betty and I were so scared," said Evelyn suddenly, in a hushed voice.

Sadie looked up, lips parted in soft surprise. Reaching out, Sadie curled her fingers around Evelyn's and squeezed her hand tightly. "So was I."

They sat in comfortable silence while Sadie finished eating. An understanding passed between them that words could never express. Instead both women started mentally preparing for what was to come. The 107th would move forward within the next day which promised a whole new level of hell. Sadie thought of F Company, sitting in the cover of the trees, waiting to take the small town just below their position. She wondered how Bucky prepared himself and his rifle squad for the coming engagement. Absently, she rubbed her fingers over her father's wedding ring as she thought of the Brooklyn boy, far away from home and readying himself to get blood on his hands for the first time.

X X X

Never in Bucky's entire life did he think there would come a time when he preferred a hole in the ground to being in the open daylight. Yet, it was all Bucky wanted as he pressed his back up against a rough brick wall of a building on the East side of Mazzarino. F Company's platoons had split off for the main assault with Third platoon flanking to the East while First charged straight down the center and Second flanked the West. As expected, gunfire came in heavy and Bucky knew if he looked out over the small field that stretched between their previous position and the town he would see more than one body left on the hard ground at an unnatural angle.

Currently, Bucky along with his radio man and one of his squad members were pinned down in their position by a sniper. Corporal Frank O'Connell, a red-faced kid from south Philadelphia popped his head around the corner to try and get a better look.

"Can you see him?" Hissed Bucky.

Frank pulled back, wide-eyed. A bullet zipped through the air with a whistle, passing right where Frank's head had been only a millisecond before. The blood momentarily drained from his face and he swore colorfully.

"I can't get an eye on him, but he sure as shit knows where we are."

Bucky frowned and hit the radioman's shoulder with the back of his hand. "Radio over to first platoon let's see if they've got eyes on him."

Private Douglas Lovitz nodded and got to work. "Third Platoon to First, over."

Seconds later Bucky heard the crackle of a familiar voice on the radio. "This is First Platoon, nice day we're having here!"

"Dugan," said Bucky beyond relieved to hear his friend was still alive. "What's your position?"

"Good to hear from you too, Buck," said Dugan, though Bucky could hear the stress in Dugan's voice. "We can't do shit until someone takes out that sniper."

"You got eyes on him?"

"Yeah but no clean shot, the bastard's holed up in the church steeple." Bucky handed the phone back to Private Lovitz and motioned for O'Connell to move so he could take his place. Crouching low, Bucky turned out. He had a split second to survey the area. The church was further away than he'd expected, but before he moved back into cover he could clearly see movement in the steeple through the half-opened shutters. Bucky felt the bullet zing past before he heard the shot ring out, missing him by inches.

Reaching out, he took the receiver from Lovitz. "I've got a clean shot, but he's locked onto us."

"Leave that to me," said O'Connell suddenly. Sweat beaded at his brow as he looked across the cobblestone lane to the relative safety of the building on the other side.

"You sure about this?" Asked Bucky.

"Yeah," said O'Connell, but he didn't look even remotely confident. "Just don't miss."

Bucky didn't think, he wouldn't let himself. Giving O'Connell a nod, he moved into position, ready to shove the butt of his rifle into his shoulder and fire in the shortest amount of time possible. It was just like shooting school bullies with spitballs across the classroom, he told himself. Holding up his hand, he counted down from three and then popped out just as O'Connell took off sprinting towards the building.

It happened instantly, but to Bucky it felt like a lifetime. He felt the butt of his rifle press against his body and he raised it, zeroing in on the sniper. His finger depressed the trigger and he barely felt the recoil when his rifle went off. The pop in his ears rang and at the same time he saw the sniper in the window start at the impact before going down, his own shot missing O'Connell by several feet. O'Connell had reached the other side, his back pressed against the wall, chest heaving. Raising a shaky hand, he gave Bucky a thumbs up.

Bucky had thought a lot about what it was going to be like, taking another life. Maybe it would hit him later, he thought as he let out a sigh and gave the command to keep pushing forward. In that moment he only felt relief that he hadn't missed and O'Connell made it to the other side unscathed. The hard part was over, he told himself as he ran, crouching low beneath an open window. He pulled the pin out of a grenade and lobbed it through the window, waiting until it went off before kicking the door in to clear the building. There was no time to dwell on the life he'd taken.

All that mattered were the men with him and staying alive long enough to see the next morning. Bucky left one building and move on to another, leading his squad on the seemingly endless charge.

X X X

Nearly two thousand miles north of Mazzarino, Agent Peggy Carter placed her hands on her hips, staring down at a massive tactical map of Europe. Only hours earlier the air raid sirens had driven most of London underground and Peggy back to the SSR bunker. Static voices poured from the radio in the far corner, mixing into the still air with the din of typewriters and SSR personnel milling about. Across the large table, a young man pushed several small models across the depictions of Tunisia to Sicily. Peggy tried not to let her disappointment show as she noted there were still no markers to indicate HYRDA on the board.

Illusive was the best word Peggy could come up with to describe the organization they were chasing. A very large ghost across the face of Europe, HYRDA had escaped their detection, and thus far their efforts to find it had failed. There were whispers of course, rumors that spread across the countryside of towns being practically incinerated and of suspicious disappearances throughout the continent. But so far, the SSR hadn't seen a wisp of concrete evidence as to HYRDA's bases of operations or the fruit of its research.

Peggy liked to think of herself as a patient woman, but even she was feeling the strain of weeks spent chasing phantoms. Pursing her red lips, she stared at the empty spaces of German-occupied Europe and wondered how pervasive HYRDA's operations really were.

"Agent Carter!" Came a booming voice. "Just the woman I was looking for!"

Colonel Phillips strode towards her from the direction of the radio room, bearing a sheet of paper in his hand. "Sir," she said standing at attention.

"At ease Agent," said Phillips, waving her down. "Looks like we finally have some good news. An aid station attached to the 107th infantry division was hit during an air raid two nights ago."

Peggy's scowl deepened. She respected Colonel Phillips quite a lot, but the man had a very frustrating habit of stopping short of giving her all the necessary information. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but how does that qualify as good news?"

He handed her the sheet of paper and plowed on while she devoured the information. "Looks like part of the shell that hit it survived the blast, the man that found it described the shell as being painted with a red symbol of a skull with,"

"Tentacles," Peggy finished, reading the report.

"That came off the front line before the 107th moved forward and military intelligence passed it on to us."

Finally, thought Peggy. After weeks of stumbling blindly in the dark they had a concrete lead. "Does intelligence know where the planes came from?"

"Not a clue, we're trying to confirm if there were more shells recovered."

"Still," said Peggy, walking around to get a closer look at Sicily. The 107th Infantry was among the smaller, more elite combat divisions, comprised entirely of men who volunteered rather than take their chances in the draft. "HYRDA clearly doesn't want Patton to reach mainland Italy."

"No, it does not," agreed Phillips, emphasizing each word.

Peggy skimmed over the intelligence report. It wasn't totally unbelievable that HYDRA was operating in Italy or at least sending its weaponry there. The allied forces were still months away from a mainland invasion through France. Italy, however, was an entirely different story. If everything went according to plan the Sicilian campaign would be over in the matter of a month, setting the stage for a massive invasion to multiple points on the Italian coast with air support bombing strategic German strongholds while the ground infantry landed on the beaches. Colonel Phillips had pointed out that it was all a prelude to France, something which Peggy didn't doubt in the least.

She stared at the map and all of the markers clustered together on the tiny island of Sicily. It was the strangest chessboard she'd ever seen, but it was a chessboard nonetheless. She'd learned how to play from her older brother, Michael, and recalled him explaining to her why some pawns always had to be sacrificed in order to win the game. Each of the markers had specific moves they could make and served their role, many of them pawns to the greater cause. All to reach checkmate, wherever that was and however it would happen.

"What's our next move, then?" Peggy asked, but she already knew the answer.

"Pack light, Agent Carter. We're headed south."

 **A/N: So the 107th is on the SSR's radar. I've been trying to work a believable way to get the SRR attached to the 107** **th** **…I'm pretty much strictly following the cinematic universe (for now) and I never found a solid explanation for why. Plus, I wanted the SSR to get involved quickly to help accelerate the timeline to get the 107** **th** **all the way from Sicily to northern Italy when, in reality, that would have taken way longer than a couple of months. That's why I have Bucky and Sadie finding the shell at the aid station, even if its maybe not totally accurate…but I think its safe to assume that HYRDA developed other weaponry for Hitler before totally going off course.**

 **Anywho, I hope you guys enjoyed! I'd love feedback, favorite parts, questions, predictions, whatever! Much love – Kappa.**


	6. Tour Guides and Gossip

**A/N: Hello from CO! I bring you a mammoth chapter, clocking it at 6,500 words! This chapter is a little slower providing some needed setup. But while there isn't any action, this chapter is not lacking in fluff!**

 **Many, many thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed! I love, love reading your feedback! Also, special thanks to Mopargirl1, who was a much needed guide and soundboard for this chapter! If you haven't read her story Serendipity yet…do that after you read this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Cap or Marvel. I really wish I did, student loans are the worst.**

 **Chapter 6 – Tour Guides and Gossip**

Bucky turned his face up to the sky, letting the summer sun warm his skin as its rays peeked through the spotty clouds. He sat with his back propped up against the side of a fountain in the heart of Messina. Sicily's summer was reaching its zenith and he had shed his field jacket and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his shirt, hoping that the surprisingly cool breeze blowing through the square would help keep him cool. He'd only come from the showers an hour earlier, his first in days, and Bucky wasn't really interested in immediately ruining it. So he'd found the best patch of shade he could and settled down to write a letter home to his family.

His concentration was shattered shortly after when Dum Dum Dugan, Corporal John Nixon, Corporal Frank O'Connell, and Private Douglas Lovitz came trickling along one by one. They made up quite the motley crew, sprawled out next to the non-functioning fountain, their uniforms in various states of disarray. Dugan was shuffling a deck of cards, trying to corral them all into a game. A cigarette hung from his mouth as he reclined on the stone steps, his bowler hat perched upon his red head. He and O'Connell had been arguing for the past fifteen minutes about whether Boston or Philly had the best looking Irish girls. It wasn't a fight Bucky cared to wade into, choosing instead to listen with some measure of amusement to O'Connell and Dugan take jabs at each other's hometown.

Douglas Lovitz lay on his back while he napped in sun, arm thrown over his head. On Bucky's other side, John Nixon settled down with a tin bowl of whatever the field kitchen was serving that day. It looked like stew, but it was a far cry from the stew Bucky grew up with. Nixon, however, didn't seem to mind in the slightest as he shoved his metal spoon into the sludge and took a massive bite. Almost immediately he made a face and started coughing, nearly unable to swallow. Nixon set the bowl down and cast a dirty look at its contents, as though the stew itself had insulted Nixon personally.

"Christ, this food is shit. Back home if my mama knew I was eating this garbage she'd have six fits from Christmas."

Dugan's eyebrows rose and he shared a look with Bucky, betraying his extreme amusement at John Nixon's exclamation. Bucky's grin widened to a near-mocking state, but he chose not to say anything to his friend. A good old boy from a pindot town in South Carolina, Corporal John Nixon was chock-full of what Dugan called 'folksy backwoods wisdom.' He had a quirky saying for just about any situation, always in his low and slow southern drawl.

Dugan took a drag of his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke upwards. "What the hell does that even mean, Nix? Six fits from Christmas, I swear to God you southerners just make shit up to confuse us city-folk."

Nixon laughed, waggling his dark eyebrows humorously. "I could and you'd never know," he teased. "But it means she'd throw a fit. I don't want to brag, but my mama? She's one of the best cooks in the whole town."

"Oh yeah? What kind of stuff does she cook?" Asked O'Connell after he lit a cigarette.

The faraway expression on Nixon's face reminded Bucky of a little kid thinking with longing for Christmas morning. "All kinds of food, shrimp and grist, roast oysters, peach cobbler, but her specialty is Frogmore stew."

"What the fuck is that?" O'Connell asked, giving his friend a dubious look.

"It's a big shrimp boil," said Nixon fondly. "The women in my neighborhood get together with giant pots and put shrimp, sausage, corn, potatoes, and onions all in and boil it up till everything's cooked just right. Then they dump it on long tables in the backyard and we eat with our hands till we're full as ticks."

Dugan snorted, rolling his eyes in the direction of the sky. Bucky shook his head. "That's disgusting, Nix."

Nixon scowled at Bucky's observation. "If we get through this y'all ought to come down for a visit. My mama'll cook Frogmore stew and you'll be singing a different tune."

Frank O'Connell waved Nixon off. "Forget your Frogmore stew. The first thing I'm gonna do when I get home is get a job at my old man's butcher's shop, marry Margaret O'Fallon, and pop out as many Frankie juniors as fast as possible." As he spoke he used his hands to form the outline of a curvy woman's figure, grinning in a knowing sort of way.

John Nixon started going on about how he planned to get home and start working on a fishing boat and buy a nice little house any girl would love to call home. Their musings woke Doug Lovitz who started waxing elegant about his girl back home who sent him perfume scented letters smudged with her red lipstick. He pulled one out to show off to the guys, only to shove it back in his pocket a moment later, red-faced when Dugan tried to snatch it so he could read the contents aloud to everyone. The others tried to tease Dum Dum about his lack of female companionship, but the Irishman was having none of it.

"I'm no woman's man," he said proudly. "It'd take a special lady to manage me."

"More like crazy if you ask me," said O'Connell. He ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding Dugan's swipe to the back of his head. Bucky laughed with the others. "What about you Buck? You got a girl back home?"

Bucky raked his fingers through his hair and made a face. Before he could answer Doug Lovitz clapped both of his hands on Bucky's shoulders, giving him a firm shake. "This handsome devil? I bet he's got a whole bunch of girls leaving flowers at his door and crying into their pillows at night."

Arching an eyebrow, Bucky titled his head to the side to look at Lovitz whose shit-eating grin was a mile wide. Bucky shrugged his hands off and shook his head. "No girl. All I left behind was my family." He stopped mid-sentence, having nearly added that he'd left behind Steve too.

Bucky's chest tightened. Like most men, he didn't like to think about home. This was especially true when it came to his parents and Steve. Sometimes Bucky found himself sitting in his foxhole laughing to himself about something stupid and he'd turn to tell Steve, only to find that he wasn't there. It had taken Bucky a while to realize that for all Steve's physical failings, he should have been there. They should have been sharing a foxhole together and the fact that they weren't was a particularly sore blow to Bucky.

"Yeah, but I bet you weren't shot of dates back home, were you?"

O'Connell's question snapped Bucky back to the present conversation. Deciding it would be worth letting a little slip to escape a whole lot of grief, Bucky put on his best smirk. "I definitely wasn't leaving the dance halls alone, if that's what you mean."

Doug slapped Bucky's back while his friends congratulated him on his apparent successes. Bucky took it in stride but caught Dugan's eye once, giving his friend a look that suggested the guys they spent time with were completely full of shit. As they'd spoken about home, and food, and girls, the sun began to move towards the Western skyline. Though there were plenty of hours of daylight left, Bucky couldn't help but feel time was running faster than usual again. In a few short days the 107th would be boarding landing craft, headed for the sandy beachheads at Salerno on the Italian mainland. Every time Bucky considered what horrors awaited them in Italy, he wished time would slow down to a grinding halt. Nobody said it, but he knew that the others felt the same.

After taking Messina in a bloody battle, the men of F Company had hoped to earn a respite from the front line. But none of the men were stupid enough to believe they'd receive relief. Messina sat on the very tip of the Sicilian coast and everyone knew it was the last step before invading mainland Italy. In preparation for the landing, the 107th had been set with memorizing detailed maps of the beaches, learning the potential sites for German guns, and memorizing each and every company's objective to the letter. By the time F Company would land on the beachhead at Salerno, Buck would be able to do not only his job, but every other job of the men in the entire division.

In the gaps between preparations, the men of F Company amused themselves by watching the ebb and flow of military operations through Messina. High ranking officers drove through in their jeeps and set up intelligence and Battalion HQ's. Mail to and from home started flowing regularly again, as did supplies that were growing scarce on the front line. Much to Bucky and the other's chagrin, replacements arrived, filling the holes left by wounded and killed soldiers. Bucky himself had two replacements in his rifle squad, one for each of the men he'd lost in two separate maneuvers to take towns along their march through Sicily. They were alright enough, but Bucky was scared that their first taste of combat would be crawling up a beach while the enemy looked down.

Jeeps rumbled through the main square, taking everyone's attention away from the cards and bad food. All of them stopped talking, choosing instead to watch the convoy roll by. The olive jeeps were the same as any other army jeep, but Bucky didn't recognize the insignia spray painted on the side. An eagle in the center of a circle, looped by words he couldn't read from far away.

"I'll be damned," said Dugan with a low whistle.

"You know who they are?" Bucky asked, sitting up a little straighter. But nobody heart him and nobody was paying attention to him. They were all transfixed on the lead jeep.

The first vehicle contained what looked like a high ranking officer, an older man wearing a peaked cap and aviator sunglasses. That in and of itself didn't surprise Bucky. It was the brunette woman riding in the back of the jeep that provided the biggest shock. The strange woman cast an appraising glance around the square, drinking in the sight of soldiers littered about the grounds. She wore a full face of makeup, right down to the cherry red lipstick. It was a foreign sight to Bucky. Women were a scarce sight these days. The few women they'd seen in the Sicilian towns wore no makeup and neither did the nurses at the field hospital. Compared to the crumbling buildings and monochromatic landscape, she looked like a movie star.

"Damn, you know I'd almost forgotten what a woman looks like," said O'Connell.

Bucky's gaze never faltered from the SSR jeeps. "She's a real looker," agreed Lovitz. "I'd give my eyeteeth for a shot at a broad like that."

"That _broad_ could probably put a bullet right between your eyes while that jeep is moving," said Dugan with a cocky sort of grin. He made the shape of a gun with his fingers and pretended to shoot the air, making a gunfire sound as he did.

"No way," said Lovitz sarcastically in disbelief.

"Believe it, Dougie. Those jeeps are with the SSR," said Dugan.

"SS-what?" O'Connell asked dumbly. Next to him Lovitz let out a low whistle while he eyed the brunette.

"Strategic Scientific Reserve," said Dugan. "I heard Lieutenant McAllister talking about it to Captain Woodworth after the aid station got shelled outside of Mazzarino that first night. Apparently it's supposed to be some high brow top-secret unit for the allies. I overheard Woodworth saying that the SSR has been sucking army intelligence dry for information on Nazi weaponry."

Bucky frowned. The front jeep passed and he watched as the woman disappeared out of sight. "What the hell are they doing here?"

Dugan shrugged. "No clue," he muttered. "But it can't be good."

"Who cares, I'll take the sight of a gorgeous woman any day, no matter why she's around," said Lovitz.

Nixon snorted with laughter. "You act like there's not a field hospital chock full of nurses just around the corner."

Lovitz grinned. "Yeah but none of them have the time to curl their hair and put on lipstick."

Bucky's mind drifted to Sadie's bright grey eyes and petal pink lips. He hadn't seen her since the morning after she'd spent the night tending to Meyers in his foxhole. Even without makeup she'd been quite pretty, wish wisps of curls framing her face and her long eyelashes brushing her cheeks every time she blinked. In many ways she'd been even more striking without makeup, allowing the early morning sun to highlight her white smile. Besides, Bucky thought, his heart quickening a beat, Sadie's looks had almost nothing to do with what made her so striking.

Leaning back, Bucky closed his eyes and continued to soak up the afternoon sun. "You're an idiot, Lovitz," he said much to the amusement of his friends.

X X X

Two days after the SSR rolled through the center of town, Bucky ended up sitting in one of the last rows of chairs in a meeting hall in Messina. At the very end of the long, narrow room, a screen stood while a projector hummed along loudly. Through the haze of cigarette smoke, Bucky could see the moving being played for the soldiers, but he wasn't really paying attention. Around him, his friends spoke in loud whispers, more distracting than if they'd been speaking at regular volume. The group of them, many of whom had already seen this particular feature, were mouthing along with the lines and mocking the actors. Bucky grinned at their sarcasm and joined in a few times, but for the most part he was waiting for Dugan to return from a training a couple of his replacements.

The two men had plans to work their way over to the 80th Field Hospital to see two of their riflemen who had been wounded when F Company helped take Messina. Bucky hadn't had a chance to see Private Anselm Miller yet, despite promising the kid he would drop by. Miller was fortunate to only take a chunk of shrapnel to his arm and was staying at the field hospital to recover until F Company headed for Salerno. Bucky liked Miller, he was a good shot and was stubborn to the last.

A hand fell on his shoulder and Bucky looked up to see Dugan crouching. "Let's go," he said, jerking his head towards the exit.

Glad to be away from the dense smoke, Bucky got to his feet and followed Dugan into the late afternoon. A slight cloud cover had rolled in the day before, providing blessed relief from the sun. Dugan walked next to Bucky in amiable silence, his bowler had tipped off slightly to the side. He'd swapped his usual cigarette for a cigar he'd rustled up from one of the homes in the area, sending puffs of thick, heavily perfumed smile high above his head. Dugan seemed perfectly at ease as they strolled through the main square, towards the backside of town where the field hospital was set up.

"Who are you going to see?" Asked Bucky after a while.

"Corporal Edward Burton," said Dugan around his cigar. "Got a nasty bullet graze on the leg. He probably could have left the hospital but I think Burty likes the attention the nurses give him."

Bucky snorted in laughter. Raking his fingers through his hair, he squinted in the distance to where he could see the main hospital tent. "Can't say I blame him."

Dugan's lips stretched into a knowing smirk. "I bet you don't. Although for your sake I hope your nurse isn't giving him too much attention."

A hot flush spread over the back of Bucky's neck. The rumor that he and Private Meyers ended up sharing their foxhole with a field nurse had spread like wildfire in the days after that fateful night. For the most part, Bucky received the teasing and good-natured jokes well, taking the time to point out the genuinely bizarre circumstances. Dugan especially enjoyed teasing Bucky about Sadie, having already met her before on the _Queen Victoria_.

"She's not my anything," said Bucky, wishing he sounded more casual.

Dugan's smirk widened. "Yeah, but you wouldn't mind if she were."

Bucky laughed, mostly to cover up his own discomfort. He'd spent more time than was wise thinking about Sadie Reid, mostly wondering whether she'd gotten herself into more trouble and hoping she'd stayed relatively safe. But, in spite of all the teasing and his own one-track mind, Bucky was particularly hesitant to open up about Sadie for a multitude of reasons. For one, they'd only been around each other three times and barely knew each other. Bucky didn't even know where Sadie was from, how could be possibly have romantic designs towards her? More than that, Bucky felt uncomfortable talking to anyone but Steve about women. He'd had his fair share of romantic endeavors, but Bucky had never been a kiss and tell sort. But Steve never pressed for more details than Bucky was willing to give and Steve always talked about women with respect, a rarity among men Bucky was beginning to understand.

Dugan wasn't bad to talk to, he certainly didn't make the same disparaging comments the others made. But still, he wasn't Steve. "Nurse Reid is smart and beautiful. I'd think most men wouldn't mind being on her arm," said Bucky cautiously.

Dugan's shoulders shook with laughter and he clapped Bucky so hard on the shoulder it knocked the air from his lungs. "A political answer if I ever heard one. But I salute you, not many guys could spend a night in a foxhole with a gorgeous nurse and not announce it to the whole damn army."

It was Bucky's turn to laugh. "Sure, until word got back to said nurse. I'd hate to be the wounded guy who ends up on any nurse's bad side."

"Wise man," teased Dugan as they ducked under the large tent flap, into the main hospital tent.

Bucky and Dugan ground to a stop, taking in the sight. The 80th Field Hospital's main tent stretched down a flat patch of earth. Four massive tent poles ran through the center lane, supporting the heavy canvas. Bucky noticed with surprise that clouds of mosquito netting hung everywhere, covering each bed and the entrances. Cots lined each side of the tent, most of them occupied by soldiers.

Before either man could do anything, a decidedly feminine voice interrupted them. "How can I help you Sergeants?"

A petite red head had stopped in front of them. Like all nurses with the field hospital, she wore the same olive drab field uniform as the men. A large white band wrapped around her right bicep, bearing the red circle and white cross. All of her burnished red hair was curled and pinned away, revealing pale ivory skin and brilliant blue eyes. Bucky cast a sideways glance to his companion; Dugan was usually the first to speak. Instead, the Boston Irishman was staring slightly open-mouthed at her.

"Yes," said Bucky, swallowing his laughter. "We're both here to see men in our rifle squads."

Immediately, the nurse's slightly suspicious countenance brightened. "Sure, who are you here to see?"

"Private Anselm Miller," said Bucky.

"Corporal Edward Burton," said Dugan after a painfully long second.

"Let's see, Private Miller is one of Nurse Ratton's patients, he's down near the end on the left hand row. And Corporal Burton is one of mine, I'll take you to him Sergeant," her clear, musical voice faltered.

"Dugan, ma'am, Timothy Dugan," said Dugan, tipping his head.

Her smile brightened. "Nurse Evelyn Lewis. Come with me." Without further ado, she marched Dugan away from Bucky, out of the tent and towards another ward. Left to his own devices, Bucky wandered down the aisle until he found Private Anselm Miller sitting on his cot, pouring over a letter. His mousy brown hair swept jauntily in a widow's peak over his high forehead and he gave Bucky a mile-wide grin as soon as he saw him.

"Sarge!" He said happily.

"Hey Miller," said Bucky. A small footstool sat next to the cot and Bucky took a seat, stretching one of his booted feet out in front of him. "How's the arm doing?"

"Hurts like hell, but I'll be fine in a couple more days. I'm not going to let you all go to Salerno without me."

Bucky smirked. "That's what I like to hear."

The two men fell into easy conversation. Bucky caught Miller up on what he'd missed, on the landing at Salerno and the SSR, which had been a hot topic of conversation. Miller was a college boy, having left volunteered during his freshman year at Stanford. Well spoken, he made for a good conversational partner and reminded Bucky a bit of Steve, which he liked. Together they watched traffic wind through the hospital tent and Miller kept up a running commentary on all the people he'd met over the past few days. Bucky remained entertained and then the tent flap opened and two women entered.

"That's Nurse Carnahan and Nurse Reid," said Miller. "They're not in this ward too often, I think they've been dealing with the malaria patients."

Bucky had ceased to hear a word after that. His eyes fell on Sadie who had paused at a makeshift counter a few beds away from Miller's. She was much the same as the last time he'd seen her, but there was something different about her still. Perhaps it was the fluid way she spoke with her hands or the fact that she was beaming at her friend, a blonde Bucky vaguely remembered seeing at the NYPOE. Sadie was entirely relaxed, resting her hip against the counter.

"Bucky?" Miller's voice echoed in the back of Bucky's head. He started to turn his head back to Miller at the same moment Sadie looked up to take stock of the main tent. Bucky was just in time to see Sadie's gaze fall on him and her lips part in soft surprise. His stomach flipped over when that surprise morphed into a small smile, her eyes warming at the sight of him.

"Yeah?" He asked, absently.

"Never mind," said Miller suddenly and Bucky heard the amusement dancing in Miller's voice. "You know I think it's about that time of day for a shift change."

Sadie had pulled her attention away from Bucky, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. And then, suddenly, Sadie left her companion, ducking out of the tent.

"You should go, sir," said Miller. Bucky's attention switched back to the wounded man. "I think I've bothered you long enough."

Bucky was vaguely aware of saying goodbye to Private Miller and ducking out of the tent. He looked around for a couple of seconds before he spotted Sadie walking away from the hospital tents, helmet under her arm. Breaking into a light jog, he waited until she was close enough that he didn't have to shout.

"Sadie!"

She pulled up short and took a step back so she could pivot. Dark eyebrows rose just a fraction and her shoulders tensed until she recognized him and relaxed. "Good evening, buck sergeant," she said, a tiny smile playing at her pink lips.

Sadie waited until Bucky caught up to her. "Are you getting off your shift?"

"Yes," she said, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the setting sun. "What brings you to this corner of Messina?"

"Dropping in on one of the privates in my rifle squad. Private Miller."

Sadie made a face. "I don't know him. But I've been in the malaria ward, so I suppose that stands to reason."

Both of them shifted uncomfortably and for the first time in his life, Bucky had no idea what to say to a woman. Sadie disarmed him in a way he'd never expected. "Are you headed to the mess for dinner? Because I was headed to the mess." Bucky winced internally as the words came out rushed.

Sadie made a face and shook her head. "I just spent the last twelve hours tending to malaria patients and cleaning up vomit, food is the last thing on my mind, buck sergeant. I'm just going to take a walk and get some fresh air." Bucky's stomach sank. Sadie jerked her head towards the tree line. "You're welcome to join if you like."

Bucky didn't need any further cajoling. Together the fell into easy step and walked in comfortable silence for a while. Every so often he stole a quick glance at her, trying to memorize her profile. At length her voice drifted into his ears on the warm evening air. "You did a good thing, coming to visit your rifleman." When he didn't immediately say anything, she plowed on. "Some of those kids come in wounded and they just lay there alone, sometimes for days on end. Knowing that their superiors care about them can go a long way to helping them recover."

The compliment slithered into Bucky's chest and set a small fire ablaze. The heat expanded, filling him with an unfamiliar comfort. "Miller is a good guy. They're all good guys and I don't imagine spending all day in the hospital is much fun."

"It's not," said Sadie. "There's only so much we can do when a man is injured and missing home."

"You all do more than you think. I've got it on good authority that you're a godsend," said Bucky.

Sadie laughed. "How is Private Meyers doing these days?"

"Still singing your praises," said Bucky daring to look at her. "I'm pretty sure his parents have built a small shrine in your honor all the way in Eugene, Oregon."

She shook her dark head and shoved her hands in the pockets of her pants. "He's a piece of work, but I'm glad he's alright. You too," she added as an afterthought. "You've been doing alright?"

Bucky shrugged. "As well as I can out here. Ready to get to the mainland just to get away from the heat."

She slumped comically in agreement with a groan. "You have no idea. Some days I'm half tempted to steal a flamethrower from the armory just so I can burn every mosquito on this island. I thought treating wounded men could be rough but it's got nothing on malaria."

So far, Bucky had been exceedingly lucky to escape that particular scourge. "Now there's an image I'd like to see," he teased. "You with a flamethrower."

Sadie chuckled in agreement and at his insistence, began telling him some of the misadventures at the hospital. As they walked the sun continued to sink and Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good conversation with a woman. He'd never really had friends of the opposite sex before. Most of his interactions with women were either with family or with girls he wanted to date or friends of his dates. But the longer he talked to Sadie, the more he realized that she'd become his friend. Once their conversation got going talking to Sadie was almost as easy as talking to Steve.

Their conversation turned several different corners until Bucky found himself taking another guess at her home state.

"Tennessee?"

Sadie shook her head. "Close, but no cigar," she replied. Bucky pretended to snap his fingers in disappointment, but he didn't really mind, he was beginning to enjoy their little game. "What was it like? Growing up in Brooklyn?"

"I loved it," said Bucky honestly. "I lived in a small apartment with my family and everyone else I knew was either in the same building or on the same block. Everything you need is right there: the grocers, butchers, clothes, diners, pubs. There was an empty lot one block over where I'd play baseball with my friends."

"It sounds suffocating to me, being that close to so many people."

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. He noticed that they'd made a large loop in their tracks and the hospital tents were coming back into view. "You don't really notice it when you live there. I liked having people right across the hall and being able to walk everywhere. There's always something different going on at each street corner. My best friend and I used to camp out on his stoop just to watch the foot traffic going by."

"Your best friend?" Sadie asked.

Bucky realized with a particularly painful jolt in his stomach that it was the first time he'd talked about Steve. "Yeah," he said in a suddenly distant voice.

Sadie must have realized that Bucky didn't want to talk about Steve because she immediately brushed the topic off. He was immeasurably grateful when she volunteered new information about himself, allowing his mind to drift to better places. "I'd never been to New York until the army sent me there. I grew up with wide open spaces and the nearest neighbor was nearly half a mile away."

"I'll bet New York was an eye-opener."

"Something like that. I didn't get to see everything I wanted to."

"Like what?"

"I'd like to go to the museums and see the Empire State Building. I've heard that there are some pretty walks along the Hudson where you can see the Statue of Liberty."

Bucky's mind wandered familiar streets and routes. "All worth doing," he said. He'd never been to any of the museums other than the museum of natural history, where he'd gone on a school trip. "But to really experience the city, you should see it with someone who knows where to go."

"Oh? I suppose you have a tour guide in mind for me?"

Bucky grinned at her, earning a playful smile in return. "As a matter of fact, I do."

They'd reached the tents at the field hospital again and stopped. Sadie turned to face Bucky, her bright grey eyes evaluating him carefully. "I don't know, buck sergeant. What do you know about classic art?"

"Not a thing," he admitted with a half-laugh. "But I'd be happy to make a bunch of stuff up."

"Tempting, but I think I'll stick with a certified tour guide," she joked. Bucky felt the warmth in his chest spread to his stomach, moving lazily into the tips of his fingers and toes. Nerves along the surface of his skin tingled and Bucky found himself wishing he possessed the courage to reach out and sweep an errant lock of hair from her forehead. His stomach turned in an uncomfortable knot as his eyes traveled from her eyes to her warm smile, in particular her full petal pink lips that suddenly Bucky imagined kissing. Sadie had the kind of lips he could spend hours drinking from and still be thirsty. Bucky wanted to bury his fingers in her dark hair and feel her arms wrapped around him. She was unlike the women he'd known in Brooklyn. There was a toughness to Sadie, tempered by her southern charm and classic looks. Bucky couldn't quite explain it, but he couldn't get enough of it and he realized that just maybe Dugan had been right earlier. Sadie was now his friend, but he certainly wouldn't mind if she were more.

"Your loss," he replied and then tilted his head to over her shoulder where Nurse Evelyn Lewis was trudging towards them. "I believe my relief is here."

"Yeah," said Sadie and for a moment Bucky was certain her heard a wistful note in her voice. "Thanks for the company, buck sergeant. Maybe I'll bump into you again before the 107th heads for Salerno."

"I hope so," he said earnestly. "Always a pleasure, Nurse Reid."

Bucky walked away and paused only once to look over his shoulder. He did not see Sadie do the same thing.

X X X

Two days later Sadie squinted into the misty morning. Her musette bag and gear lay at her feet, her helmet resting atop the pile. Evelyn and Betty stood with her, trading a few words as they watched the spectacle unfolding before them. Sadie, Evelyn, Betty and the rest of the 80th field hospital stood on the beach outside of Messina, watching as the landing craft carrying the 107th disembarked from Sicily. Airplanes roared overhead, some destined to provide air support and take out as many German guns as they could on their run. Other planes carried airborne infantry who would be jumping into key points to help link up the smaller towns on either side of Salerno.

In twelve hours, the 80th field hospital would be boarding landing craft to take the same journey. The doctors, nurses, and staff would have to clamber up the beachhead and set up the hospital on the first patch of solid ground they could find in order to receive wave after wave. They'd all been told to prepare for heavy casualties and wounds the likes of which they hadn't seen yet. The mere thought caused Sadie's stomach to turn and her lungs tightened with each breath. They'd gotten off relatively easy in Sicily, but now the real work was coming, something all the women had known from the start.

"Sade? Do you have an extra pair of scissors? Ruthie can't find hers." Sadie swiveled her gaze away form the departing landing craft to Betty and the woman who stood next to her. Ruthie Lafferty was a round-faced, somewhat forgetful nurse who also happened to have a never-ending supply of kindness and patience. Sadie often envied Ruthie's ability to handle the foulest of tempers from soldiers.

"Yeah," said Sadie and she knelt down, opening her pack. She dug around for a moment before she produced the second of her two pairs of scissors.

"Thanks," said Ruthie, her Minnesota accent as heavy as ever. "I'dve been up a creek!"

Sadie gave Ruthie half of a friendly smile and then returned her gaze to the sea, watching as the craft eventually disappeared into the horizon. "What do you think it's going to be like when we get there?"

Evelyn's question hung uncomfortably between the four women. "I think the girls who think that Sicily was bad haven't seen anything yet," said Sadie darkly. "I think the Nazis are just waiting to show us their worst."

"Gee, Sade, you're a regular ray of sunshine aren't you?" Betty said. The blonde stood, trying to fix a pin that held her finger curls together. Her frustration was evident on her pretty face, lips twisted in a scowl. "God it's useless," she said puling the pin and tossing it on the ground angrily. "I swear when we get to New York the first thing I'm going to do is find the most expensive salon and I'm not leaving until they fix all of this damage."

Betty gestured to her face and hair. Evelyn and Sadie shared a knowing look. "It's not that bad, Betty. All you'll need is a trim and a fresh set of curls, then you'll be good to go!"

"Yeah that and a manicure, a pedicure, a facial, all new makeup, and a brand new face while we're at it!" Complained Betty.

Ruthie's eyebrows flew up, unused to Betty's regular habit of decrying her pin-up looks. "I swear, Betty if I had a quarter for every time you complained I'd be a rich woman," said Sadie with a wink to Ruthie who grinned back.

"Well, at any rate I'd commit murder for some lipstick," said Betty unhappily.

Evelyn straightened, as if a thought had just occurred to her. "Speaking of lipstick, have you all seen the woman whose been going around with that Science Reserve unit?"

Sadie shook her head along with Ruthie. "Nope, Ruthie and I have been basically quarantined in the malaria unit since we got to Messina."

"I have," said Betty. "The brunette? Always has her hair done and makeup?"

"Yeah," said Evelyn. "Well, I was talking to Doctor Holmes yesterday while we did rounds and he told me that she's with something called the SSR and they're going to be traveling with us over the next few months. They're all over there," she said pointing over Sadie's shoulder.

A group of uniformed individuals had started loading one of the landing craft that remained for the field hospital. From far away, Sadie could see that almost all of the workers were men, but then she saw the topic of conversation. A brunette woman oversaw the loading of several crates. Sadie couldn't see any detail in her face from so far away.

"So, what's the big deal?" Asked Sadie.

"Apparently the SSR is some military research division that pulls talent from all over the world. Doc Holmes was telling me that not only are the people with us staying but that they work closely with Howard Stark."

The mere mention of Howard Stark's caused a wave of excitement to roll through Betty, Evelyn, and Ruthie. Sadie crossed her arms over her chest. She understood the fascination with his professional career and innovative thinking, but Sadie had never found him attractive the way her friends did. "You're kidding," said Betty, flushing pink. "Wouldn't that be something? Howard Stark coming here."

The girls continued to gossip about Howard Stark and his pictures in the newspapers. Sadie half-listened as she watched the SSR continue their operations. In a little while they would be loading their own gear onto the landing crafts. Sadie dug a chain from beneath her uniform shirt and began rubbing her father's wedding ring anxiously. How did research units, red lipstick, and Howard Stark really compare to what was facing them? Soon enough the 107th would land on the beachhead and their work would begin again.

Sadie smiled as Betty started imitating Howard Stark's stage girls, mimicking them showing off his latest products. She would give anything to arrive at Salerno only to find that there were no casualties. That way she could spend her time listening to Betty and Evelyn speculate about whether Stark was a good kisser and if he really sent his one of his assistants call his dates ahead of time to confirm the itinerary and dress code. Absently, Sadie wondered where Bucky normally took his dates and if he always called ahead of time to confirm plans. She thought about his offer to take her to New York's art museums and to make up ridiculous facts about the paintings. Laughter bubbled up in her throat and she narrowly kept it down, smiling to herself all the same. Maybe, just maybe if they lived through the war, she'd take him up on his offer.

The thought kept Sadie entertained for a while longer, a pleasant diversion from the hell that was sure to come.

 **A/N: Sadie/Bucky fluff makes me so happy, y'all have no idea.**

 **Next chapter returns to the action as we will see the 107** **th** **land at Salerno, the 80** **th** **field hospital in full-tilt chaos and Peggy and Sadie meet for the first time!**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think! I love your feedback! - Much love, Kappa.**


	7. Beachheads and Bloodshed

**A/N: Hello all! I bring you a very action-packed Chapter 7. I'm going to give you fair warning – this chapter is violent, bloody, and may be unsettling for some readers. I've done my best to depict this as historically accurately as possible, though there may be some inaccuracies for which I apologize. On the whole, I'm really proud of this chapter and I really hope you like it.**

 **Over 100 follows and almost 50 favorites! You guys are simply phenomenal and I cannot thank you enough for all of the support and love for this story. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your wonderful reviews, I absolutely love reading your feedback and seeing your predictions!**

 **Again – I want to warn for language and violence.**

 **Disclaimer –I don't own Captain America. I wish I did. I do own Sadie, Betty, Evelyn, Doc Holmes and all the rest of the supporting cast of characters.**

 **Chapter 7 – Beachheads and Bloodshed**

"Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

It was the twelfth time Frank O'Connell had repeated the Lord's Prayer in the last hour and a half. Bucky had been keeping count while O'Connell held a silver crucifix tight between the fingers of one hand and his rifle in the other. He sat next to Bucky, shoulders rigid and pale lips moving rapidly over the words. Every so often he'd stop, look at the men next to him, curse under his breath only to duck his head and begin praying again. Under any other normal circumstance, Bucky would tell O'Connell to knock it off, but he wasn't about to take away the man's comfort. Not now.

The truth was that O'Connell wasn't the only man with his head bowed in prayer or clutching some valued piece of home. He could see other men with crosses, saint's medals, rings and lockets from loved ones, even Doug Lovitz was brushing his thumb repeatedly over a gold Star of David that hung from a fine chain.

"Amen," said O'Connell as the landing craft hit another wave. Saltwater flew above the craft's high walls, spraying Bucky over the top of his helmet and in his face. The craft cut through the crystal blue waters, rolling with the waves. The mechanical whirring of the craft's engines droned on over the sound of the waves. The craft hit another large wave and somewhere behind Bucky, he could hear a soldier vomit, followed by the collective groans of his companions. Bucky's lips almost twitched into a smile, but not quite. He looked down. His hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"Get it together, Buck," he said softly to himself, just under his breath. "Keep it together."

In his chest his heart was absolutely hammering. O'Connell started in on another prayer, this time the Hail Mary. Bucky wasn't particularly religious, but he still found himself mouthing the words along with O'Connell, wondering if there was some credence to the calming power of prayer. He could just see the short, sheer cliff faces rising above the beachhead. It wouldn't be long now.

"Two minutes till landing!" The operator yelled from the back of the craft.

"Alright, second platoon listen up! Get up the beach as fast as possible. Keep moving till you reach cover, do not stop moving! Keep the sand our of your weapons. Staff Sergeants Taylor, Webster and Barnes, keep your rifle squads together." Lieutenant McAllister's voice boomed over the din of the sea and the engine. Bucky looked back at second platoon's commanding officer. If McAllister was nervous, he didn't let it show. Instead he kept his blue eyes resolute, moving from one face of his platoon to the next. "Our goal is to take the beachhead and link up with the British 56th and the U.S. 36th."

The water in front of them exploded, shooting straight up. A flurry of cursing exploded form the men as they all ducked at the sound of the mortar shell. O'Connell shoved his crucifix back in the front pocket of his field jacket, his hand shaking just as badly as Bucky's.

"Once you get on the ground move as you can so the second wave can land with anti-tank guns and artillery. I want rifles on the gun positions as soon as possible." McAllister took a deep, shaking breath. "Good luck, God bless us all."

The craft rocked from the force of a second artillery shell bursting in the water nearby. The water rushed over the sides, soaking Bucky's boots. He clutched his rifle closer to his chest and sucked in the deepest breath possible. Oxygen rushed his lungs and he took another deep breath and one more after that. He'd made it this far, he told himself forcefully. Bucky would be damned if he was going to die waterlogged on some shitty beach in Italy. The thought cleared his head, stilled his hands, and ignited fresh determination in his veins. The bitter taste of adrenaline welled up in his mouth and Bucky welcomed it.

"Thirty seconds!"

Mortar shells burst again. All around Bucky the others began putting their good luck charms, crosses, medals, and mementos away. He kept a white-knuckled grip on his rifle. The man at the head of the craft started spinning the large wheel to lower the ramp. The craft hit the shore and the ramp came down, sloshing into the shallow water.

The first two men went crashing into the surf, their bodies twitching from the bullets that came zinging towards second platoon. There was a surge forward, a panic to get out of the craft where they were sitting ducks. The fallen men were shoved out of the way, their blood dispersing into the blue water. Bucky and O'Connell burst forward together, along with Lovitz and the rest of Bucky's rifle squad.

"Keep moving forward!" Bucky shouted over the din of the waves.

The ground blew outwards several feet in front of him, blowing saltwater and globs of wet sand all over his uniform and face. Spitting it out of his mouth, Bucky grabbed onto a strap on O'Connell's uniform and helped haul him forward as he teetered precariously under the weight of his pack. Lovitz, desperate to keep his radio dry, knee-highed his way through the surf. The man on the other side of Bucky went down as a bullet buried itself through his left eye. His choked scream died in the waves and Bucky looked down to see he was trudging through red surf, capped with pale red foam.

Bucky and O'Connell both ducked as they heard the rumbling boom of naval guns. He couldn't see the rounds that soared overhead, but grinned breathlessly when the top of a rock face shattered.

"Fuck me!" O'Connell swore as he stumbled and fell into Bucky. Both of them went sideways, nearly crashing into the thick sand as they ran forward out of the waves. He was clutching his left arm. "I'm hit!"

There was no time to think about it. Bucky clutched O'Connell's uniform harder and pushed him forward. "Keep moving!"

He forced O'Connell ahead and looked around for the rest of his squad. Well-trained to the last man, he could see almost each one of them forcing their way towards him. Bucky waved his arm and then cursed, jumping to the side as a bullet nearly took his ear off, the zing rushing past was nearly deafening.

Artillery rounds continued to burst and for the split second he stood still, Bucky watched in horror as a landing craft took a direct hit. It burst into flames, trapping its men inside. The few survivors straggled out. A man missing both of his arms at the elbow keeled face-first into the surf, screaming as he went. A hand fell hard on his shoulder. "Keep moving, Bucky!"

Lieutenant McAllister, taking up the rear of second platoon kicked him into gear. The two men trudged through the thick, slopping sand. Ahead, Bucky could see one of his riflemen, Private George Jackson, one of his two replacements laying in the sand. Jogging towards him, Bucky knelt down to get him up and stopped short. Shrapnel from a mortar shell was buried deep in his neck and shoulder. Hastily, Bucky fumbled for the loop on his dog tags, unwilling to look at the places on the right side of his face and neck where his skin had been burned away.

"Bucky, come on!" Lovitz was yelling at him. Clutching Jackson's dog tag so hard it cut into his palm, Bucky ran the rest of the distance, narrowly dodging another mortar round. Machine gun fire burst across the sand and Bucky practically dove to the embankment where Lovitz was propped up, crawling the rest of the distance on his stomach. Most of his rifle squad was there, spread across the embankment.

O'Connell was there, on his right side while a medic took care of the deep bullet graze to his left arm. "You okay Frank?" Bucky called.

"Fucking fantastic, sarge!"

Bucky turned his attention to Doug Lovitz and Anselm Miller.

"What do we got?"

"Snipers and machine gun fire from the high ground, they're pretty well covered. Looks like artillery is dug in behind them, but we can't really see a goddamn thing." Bucky scowled and lifted his head above the embankment. Sure enough, a few hundred yards a head he could see the first line of defense.

"They knew we were coming," said Bucky darkly. "Jackson got hit."

"Yeah, so did Nickels and Wyatt." Lovitz's voice was dark. Bucky started at the news but on Miller's other side he could see Wyatt's still body. His face twisted, but there wasn't anything he could do now.

"Damn."

"What now, sir?"

A mortar shell exploded in front of the embankment, spraying sand over their heads. "Can you get a clear shot on the gunners?"

Lovitz and Miller both peered above the embankment, ducking down just in time. "Dead ahead."

"Let's light them up, then," said Bucky and he cocked his rifle.

The naval guns in the water behind them continued to fire and Bucky shoved the butt of his rifle into his shoulder joint and, leading the way, popped up. He fired off several rounds, aiming for the small heads of the German gunners. Protected by a wall of sandbags, the shot was nearly impossible. A puff of red mist released into the air, followed by another and Bucky watched as the German gunners fell. Bucky fell back against the embankment, turning his gaze to the beachhead. He could see ribbons of red sand and the water broke over the bodies of his fallen comrades. A chaplain picked his way over the dead, pausing long enough to bless each man before moving on. Medics crawled over the bodies, desperate to avoid machinegun fire as they reached for the wounded.

It was enough to make a grown man cry, but Bucky couldn't bring himself to feel it. Long ago, he'd pushed the fear into a dark corner, suppressing it with the knowledge that the second he let the fear control him he was a dead man. The crafts kept landing, spilling out platoon after platoon of soldiers. Bucky watched, completely numb as several soldier pierced the smokescreen provided by Naval support, only to be pushed back into the waves by a mortar round. The noise was deafening and yet, Bucky could still hear the furious pounding of his heart. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

Lovitz clapped his shoulder. "Sarge?"

Bucky came to. "Clear the gun position, Lovitz take three men and flank from the left. Miller, take three to the right. The rest of us move up the center. Take the gun and keep pushing ahead."

Lovitz nodded, swallowing hard. "You heard the man, let's move!"

"Stay low, boys!" Lovitz and Miller signaled to their comrades and Bucky forced himself over the embankment. Sporadic gunfire peppered the sand but Bucky kept on, moving into a low crouch in the tall grass that sprouted through the sand. Approaching swiftly, he reached for a grenade hanging from his belt. Once in range, he pulled the pin and lobbed it over the sandbags. The strangled shouts of at least two other Nazis died the second the grenade exploded and Bucky reached the gun just as Lovitz and Miller did, they each fired a shot.

"Someone take out that gun," said Bucky.

Bucky signaled for his men to move forward, looking to get to their next cover. Ahead, he could see Lieutenant McAllister had reached Sergeant Taylor's squad, but Taylor was nowhere in sight. They forged ahead, cheering as the naval guns took out one of the high sitting machine gun positions. Bucky looked back once more, shocked at how far they'd come up the shore. Any minute the second wave would land, bringing mortar and anti-tank guns. Not a minute too soon, he thought as artillery rocked the earth, blowing the fine sand towards the heavens. Bucky could hear the cries for medics, mothers, and God behind him. He gritted his teeth and led the charge forward, determined to get off that godforsaken beach. Bucky didn't know or care about anything other than his squad's objective, firmly believing that not even God himself could save them now.

X X X

"Hold him down!"

Sadie's command came through her gritted teeth. The two technicians with her threw their weight on the shoulders and chest of the patient they were trying, and mostly failing, to restrain. Their hands slipped over the his water-slicked skin while he thrashed against them.

"We're trying!" One of the boys snapped back, his eyes wide with exertion and face distorted.

"Soldier! You have got to calm down!"

The soldier was sobbing between his strangled yells. Tears poured from his brown eyes and he tilted his chin upwards, back arching when Sadie so much as touched the chunk of shrapnel buried in his thigh.

"Get it out of me, get it out!" He wailed.

Sadie's patience had long become a distant memory, as had her sense of decorum. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up past her elbows and she'd covered her head with a scarf to keep it all away from her face. A white smock covered her front, taking the brunt of the gore she'd been facing down since the hospital landed on the beachhead.

"I can't pull the damn thing out if you don't hold still!" Her southern accent was in full force as she dropped lower, pushing her forearm down on the soldier's knee to stabilize his leg. In the short window of time, she managed to grasp the chunk of shrapnel and she pulled it from the wound, the action coinciding with the soldier's cry of anguish. She tossed the shrapnel into the steel container on her work tray but didn't pause. Removing the shrapnel had done the trick and the soldier began to settle. Sadie got to work, hurriedly pushing a compress bandage down on the gash and looking over her shoulder.

"Doc Holmes!" She yelled over the din. Two soldiers away, Doctor Holmes lifted his head, finding her immediately. "Suture!"

"Coming!" He shouted back. Sadie motioned for one of the technicians to take her place.

"Keep applying consistent pressure," she directed, pushing the technician's hands over the bandage, uncaring that she'd covered them in blood. "Just like that."

Pulling back she reached for the rag she'd dropped on the tray and began wiping her hands off. Doctor Holmes reached her before she could move. "You get that shrapnel out?"

"He's had one syrette of morphine and it's all but worn off." Doctor Holmes nodded.

The rumble of jeeps cut off anything he was about to say. Both of them shared a dark look. Within seconds, runners carrying stretchers came in through the tent flap. "Go," he said. "I'll finish up here."

Without a second thought Sadie jogged towards the runners, by now she knew almost all of them but she didn't recognize these faces. "What company?"

"We're form the 36th ma'am," said the runner.

"The 36th? What are you all doing here?" She asked, the blood draining from her face. The runners both frowned.

"Half of our infantry division is pinned down on the beachhead, we can't even land artillery and our anti-tank guns to take out the Germans. It was either risk the drive here or let our men die on the beach."

Sadie swore under her breath and looked around. There was nobody there to give orders. Everyone, including herself, was completely overwhelmed. Continuing to scrub her hands off with the rag, she looked through to the end of the overcrowded, overworked tent. Her mind went off in rapid fire, trying to think of the places she could sent them. They were on the grassy plain just off the beachhead, secured only hours before. "There's a large thoroughfare between this tent and the next one over. Start setting your litters on the least sandy grass you can find, support them with crates if you have to. Prioritize your wounded and bring the most critically injured into the second ward tent. We're at capacity here."

The runner nodded. "Thanks, nurse."

Sadie didn't bother with responding. Instead she looked for the first familiar, non-busy face she outranked that she could find. It was Nurse Ruthie Lafferty, who had just finished bandaging a young man. "Ruthie! Go to the second ward tent and let Doctor Carroway and Betty know to expect incoming wounded from the 36th Infantry Division. Then find a couple of technicians to help the incoming runners triage the wounded."

"On it!" She replied and took off like a bullet, running past the woman who was standing just inside the tent flaps. Sadie halted at the sight of her. It was the brunette woman with the SSR. She stood ramrod straight, staring openly at the chaos in the tent before her eyes flickered to Sadie's blood-stained smock.

"Can I help you?" Asked Sadie, hurrying towards her. "Are you injured?"

"N-no," said the woman. "I've come to see if I can be of any help."

Sadie had precious few seconds to size her up. The English accent came as a surprise, sharp and crisp. She could see the hesitation in her movements and the slight horror pulling her cherry red lips downward at the grisly scene. Sadie fought a scowl, the field hospital wasn't exactly as neat and cheerful as the film reels had probably made it out to be. Though she looked like the very definition of an English rose, Sadie could see a fire blazing in the woman's brown eyes. Determination practically leeched off her skin, as though she was fighting tooth and nail not to let her horror show.

"If you don't mind a little blood, roll up your sleeves, you can help me," she said as two runners entered the tent.

"Nurse Reid!" One of the familiar men said. His red cheeks puffed in and out as he struggled to keep the litter upright.

"Bring him over here," said Sadie and started towards one of the only open areas left in the tent. "Go get me supplies."

The runners set the stretcher between the two large crates. Sadie hurried to his side and looked up to see the woman on the other side, staring wide-eyed down at him. It wasn't hard to see why. The man shivered uncontrollably, his hand stuck between the open edges of his shirt, pressing down over his wound. A runner returned with a tray of tools and she reached for a towel and began to mop away the blood around the soldier's hand. Sadie looked up once more at the woman.

"I don't want to die," he muttered over and over, voice cracking over the words.

"Talk to him," said Sadie gently.

The SSR agent did as Sadie directed and moved up to stand near his head. She carded her fingers through his wavy brown hair. "Look at me, soldier," she said gently, soothingly. "You'll be alright." She kept on talking.

Sadie held a bandage in one hand and began to move his hand with the other. As soon as his hand came away she shut her eyes for a brief second, the only grief she would allow herself. Whether it was mortar or a close range shot, Sadie didn't know, but it didn't really matter. In her clear field of vision she could see a glimpse of his liver, torn to shreds and hemorrhaging blood faster than Sadie could ever hope to repair. Silently, she covered the wound with a thick bandage and administered a dose of morphine. Her companion continued to speak to him as Sadie took her finger and drew 'm' on his forehead. His eyes found her and he mouthed wordlessly, Sadie could see the blood tinging his lips and staining his teeth. But as he took a shuddering breath he slipped out of awareness, somewhere into the unknowing and unfeeling void.

She signaled for a technician. "Take him out of the ward to make room for more incoming," she said in an undertone.

The technician understood her meaning. Sadie turned her attention to the woman. "What's your name?"

"Agent Carter," she said and then stopped short. "Peggy."

"I'm Sadie Reid," she replied and started wiping her hands clean again. "Come on."

Sadie started walking away as two technicians went to the man's litter and carried him out. Peggy followed her dumbfounded. "But what about that man?" She asked.

"He's not going to make it," said Sadie simply. "You're welcome to keep him company, but I've got plenty of other men take care of and plenty of other lives I can save."

It was a cold response and Sadie knew it. But she'd learned to distance herself from the men a long time ago. Attachments made the job nearly impossible, that's what Doctor Holmes had said after their first week. Loathe as she had been to admit it at the time, Sadie knew he was right. Peggy followed her, still in open-mouthed shock. As they moved, Peggy rolled her sleeves up and started to speak more than once, only to fall silent, as though words failed her.

"It's not what you expected, is it?" Sadie asked a few patients later as she was applying gauze and dressing to a severely burned man. Completely sedated by morphine, the soldier lay in relative peace, entirely unaware that his left arm and torso were unrecognizable. Sadie worked gingerly but quickly to shield his skin from the elements. There wasn't much she could do for him except clean him up, medicate, bandage, and prepare him for evacuation, all with the crushing knowledge that this man's battle had only just begun.

"No," said Peggy from where she stood opposite Sadie, holding the man's good hand. She rubbed her thumb over his undamaged skin, letting go every now and then to open a fresh gauze packet or unroll bandages for Sadie. "Is it always like this?"

Sadie shook her head and wrapped the bandage around his hand which was now missing his pinky and ring fingers at the second knuckles. She'd carefully removed his wedding band and gave it Peggy who took the liberty of undoing the ball chain around his neck and looping it through to hang with his dog tags. "The Germans weren't this well-armed in Sicily and the 36th wasn't shipping their wounded up to us either."

Peggy made a face. "Before I came in we'd been getting reports that the 36th was met with two Panzer units under Generalmajor von Doering's command. They'd never been in combat."

"Only to get mowed down by German tanks," said Sadie grimly. "Their runners said the whole division just fell apart?"

Sadie tied off the bandage and started to clean up her supplies. "Yes. They aren't nearly as well trained as the 107th."

"Draftees, I gather," Sadie surmised. Peggy nodded. "These poor boys, ripped from their mothers and wives only to die in an unfamiliar place in the worst ways imaginable."

Peggy gave Sadie a long, searching look, as though really understanding why Sadie couldn't let herself become too attached. Already she'd spent too much time looking at the faces of incoming wounded. Sadie didn't know when she'd realized it, but she'd been looking for Bucky since the first soldiers came pouring into the hospital. A quiet fear had settled into her stomach, distorting her reason. Sadie had no reason to be attached to and fear for Bucky's life, but she did all the same. The small relief she felt when each man turned out to be someone else was accompanied by a pang of guilt, but Sadie couldn't bring herself to force the relief away.

"Not all of them die," said Peggy, diverting Sadie's thoughts.

Slowly, Sadie nodded. The first smile of the day pulled at her lips, tiny and hopeful. "No, not all of them," she agreed.

Sadie looked up at the face of her unconscious patient. With a motherly touch, she swept a lock of hair from his forehead. Perhaps this soldier had a long road to recovery, but at least he was going to live to see his family. That was more than too many men got. Moments later technicians moved him to evacuation, but Peggy and Sadie had already moved on.

X X X

Hours after the main assault on the beachhead north of the River Sele, the 80th Field Hospital and the SSR landed, following in the 107th's bloody footprints. A perfectly round sun was now sinking into the flawless blue sky, letting loose an oppressive array of colors over the sand and sea. Peggy took the setting sun's cheerfulness as a personal affront. How dare it smile over the blood washed shore and the men and women who had been working ceaselessly to clean up the chaos that battle left behind?

She'd stayed in the first ward tent at the 80th Field Hospital for what felt like ages, following Nurse Sadie Reid around as she worked. The woman, though clearly exhausted, never once let her fatigue dull her sharp instincts or slow her work. Sadie and the other nurses were still working—with no end in sight—when Peggy took her leave, trudging out into the fading afternoon. After reporting back to Colonel Philips to see if he had any orders, Peggy happily collapsed on one of the benches near the field kitchen, though she wasn't even remotely hungry. Instead she kept her back to the table and looked out over the massive operation that unfolded around her. Support had been landing around the clock since the 107th had punched through the German line and took out the defense on the beachhead. Some of it was for the 107th and other landing craft providing support for the 36th had been forced up shore, landing to avoid German long-range artillery fire.

Peggy knew that she would get her taste of the horrors of war once she landed on the Italian mainland. But her darkest dreams had never come close to the blood and gore she'd seen in the first ward tent. That any of the enlisted technicians, nurses, and doctors could stomach the sensory overload bordered awe-inspiring to Peggy. She herself wasn't sure she'd be able to eat for days and all she'd done was talk to wounded soldiers and hand Sadie various medical supplies. Peggy had heard rumors that the field nurses and doctors were made of iron, but she hadn't believed it until she watched Sadie set a grown man's shoulder and pull shrapnel from a wound in another's neck.

"Hey, are you alright?" Sadie's voice interrupted Peggy's train of thought.

Startled, Peggy tore her gaze away from the shore and found Sadie standing with two trays of food in her hands. A woman stood on either side of Sadie, one blonde, the other a redhead. "I'm alright," said Peggy.

Sadie smiled warmly, apparently seeing right through Peggy's flimsy lie. "You can be honest with us," she said and sat down next to her, sliding one of the two trays in front of her. "And you need to eat."

Peggy looked dubiously at the tray. The redhead and blonde sat down across from Peggy, both carrying their own trays. "The first bite or two is a challenge, but you'll feel better," said the redhead kindly. "I'm Evelyn Lewis, this is Betty Carnahan," she jerked head towards the blonde.

"Peggy Carter," she said and started to push her fork around the tin plate.

"Eat," encouraged Sadie. She seemed completely unaffected by the work she'd been doing. Peggy noticed with a start that all three women appeared perfectly cheerful considering they'd been tending to some of the worst wartime wounds Peggy could imagine. The notion of eating anything repulsed Peggy, how could anyone stomach food at a time like this? Still, she forced herself to take a bite and then another. To her immense surprise, the food helped Peggy's stomach settle. "Anyone's first time in the field hospital is pretty jarring, but you're doing really well all things considered."

"You're joking," said Peggy. "Right up until you joined me I thought I might be sick."

Betty and Evelyn both laughed. "If it makes you feel better I think we all got sick after our first night in Sicily," said Betty. "I know I did."

"Me too," added Evelyn.

"I did the next morning," said Sadie.

A teasing light came into Betty's wicked eyes. "Oh please, like you had any reason to throw up. You'd just spent the night in a foxhole with one of the most gorgeous men I've ever seen."

Peggy's gaze whipped to Sadie. The color of her cheeks roughly matched the brilliant pink hues of the sunset. "I thought field nurses never went on the front lines," she said.

"They don't," said Evelyn casually, flicking a grin towards Sadie. "A series of unfortunate events led Sadie to go with a runner to an aid station that went up in flames, forcing Sadie into a foxhole with tall, dark, and handsome."

Sadie shifted in irritation. "You're forgetting the part where the aid station went up in flames because it was bombed and the fact that I was in the foxhole tending to a wounded man," she snapped. Peggy's mouth fell open.

"Is this the aid station bombed outside of Mazzarino?" She asked.

"That's the one," said Sadie. The nurse's color began to return to normal, though her grey eyes remained fixed on the hunk of bread she was tearing into shreds. Peggy literally couldn't believe her good luck. Out of all of the people in the entire army, she was sitting next to one of the people who had actually witnessed the bombing, the lead on HYRDA that had brought the SSR to Italy in the first place. "Why?"

"No reason," she said hastily, not wanting to breach the subject in front of so many people. Instead, Peggy made a mental note to reach out to Sadie later, to have her talk to Colonel Phillips and get her first-hand account. "That bombing caused a bit of an uproar for intelligence."

"Is that what your unit does? Intelligence?" Sadie asked.

"Partly," said Peggy and paused, looking for the right words to explain the SSR. "But mostly the SSR is devoted to research and development for weaponry to fight Hitler's more advanced military units."

The three girls seemed suitably impressed, though not particularly interested. This suited Peggy just fine. The fewer questions they asked about the SSR, the easier it was for Peggy to glance over the more covert aspects of the operation. "So, do you know Howard Stark? I heard he's involved with the SSR."

Betty's question sent Evelyn into a fit of giggles. Peggy cast a sideways glance to Sadie who merely rolled her eyes. "Ignore them. One mention of Howard Stark's name and both of them turn into complete airheads."

Sadie received a chorus of offended 'heys!' from her friends. Peggy's lips stretched into a broad smile. She continued to eat, letting all three nurses direct their conversation in different directions, from Howard Stark to London and everything in-between. It felt nice spending time with other women, she thought, after fighting her way through the boys' club that was the SSR. They sat together for a while longer until a hospital technician appeared, calling all three nurses back to help with another wave of men from the 36th infantry.

"Any time you want to come help out at the hospital you're more than welcome, Agent Carter," said Sadie. "We'll see you around."

"Nice to meet you all," said Peggy and she watched the three nurses discard their trays and trudge back to the hospital, rolling up their shirtsleeves as they went. The sun sank lower into the horizon, reminding Peggy of the work she still had left to do. She rose and retreated to the SSR's tents, wondering how long it would be before they were on the move again.

X X X

"Hey, Sergeant Barnes, get over here."

Bucky popped his head out of the foxhole he'd been sharing with Douglas Lovitz. Lieutenant McAllister waved him over to where he crouched with Lieutenants Adam Milford and Edward Keaton, the commanding officers of F Company's first and third platoons. The three men were in conversation with Captain Norman Willis, the commander of F Company. Keeping his head low, Bucky scrambled out of his foxhole and jogged towards the small knot of officers.

"Sir?" He whispered, voice just as low as McAllister's. "What can I do for you?"

Bucky's eyes flickered to Captain Willis. "We've lost contact with the British 56th," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. "And while it's no great surprise, we can't afford to have gaps in the line."

This news really wasn't much of a shock to Bucky. In the two days following the 107th's landing on the beach north of the River Sele it had been battling not only the Germans but a massive breakdown in communication. Though the 107th held its portion of the line, it had been forced in an almost diagonal position in order to stay connected with both the British 56th, which had pushed further ahead, and the U.S. 36th which had barely limped off the beachhead. The 107th's goal had been to connect the two units into one continuous line across the Italian coast, but doing so proved to be a greater challenge than its commanding officers had anticipated. As a result, F Company found itself on the northernmost tip of the line, responsible for staying in contact with the British 56th.

Pushed up against von Doering's Panzer and infantry units, movement had been slow and keeping up with the British 56th had been a constant challenge. Tanks blocked the roads leading into the towns that dotted the countryside, all leading towards the major objectives: Paestum, Salerno, and Naples and then further inland and further north. They'd endured near-continuous shelling all while trying to compensate for so many men lost after storming the beach. Staying alive and keeping the German counterattacks at bay had been difficult enough without the added burden of keeping up with the British 56th. This was an opinion, though shared by the men, that Bucky would never voice in front of his superiors.

"What can I do, sir?" He asked instead, already beginning to formulate a guess.

"Sergeant Barnes, take three men on a combat patrol, see if you can't link up with the 56th."

Bucky had figured as much. "Who do you want me to take?" He asked Lieutenant McAllister.

"Lovitz, Nelson, and Morales."

"Yes, sir," said Bucky. He looked at the other officers, gave them a curt nod and jogged back to his foxhole. He rapped the top of Lovitz's helmet. "On your feet Dougie, combat patrol."

Lovitz woke mid-snore and he blinked stupidly up at Bucky through the darkness. Only the half moon illuminated the surrounding area of their position. "What? Now?" He asked unhappily.

"Captain Willis wants us to link up with the 56th," said Bucky. He left Lovitz to finish waking up while he roused Joey Nelson and Luis Morales.

Ten minutes later Bucky led the three men as they started their trek away from F Company's position. They walked in silence, listening for any sign of movement. Bucky's finger remained steady on the side of his rifle, ready to slide into the trigger at a split-second's notice. Every man knew what the other was thinking. The enemy was somewhere out there and though Bucky had an estimation of where the German line was, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't go stumbling into it.

That very nightmare happened only the day before to Dum Dum Dugan's patrol, resulting in one dead and another paralyzed. Bucky wasn't interested in repeating that particular horror story even though his platoon was faring far better than others. All-in-all, Bucky felt relieved that his platoon had only lost seven men, there were other platoons that were nearly decimated. He'd kept the list of the three men from his squad and their dog tags were tucked away into the front pocket of his field jacket, next to a few letters from home.

The previous two days of fighting and marching had led them across a hilly, craggy, mostly treeless landscape. Bucky and his men had dug foxholes up against large rocks and ridges to provide as much cover as possible, but they'd moved so fast it was impossible to stay settled for more than a couple of hours at a time. As they walked in the open, away from the roads, Bucky felt exposed. The four men stuck to as much cover as they could find, small clusters of trees, bushes, and staying behind hillsides.

"Where the fuck do you think they are?" Asked Lovitz after twenty minutes of marching, a personal record of silence for the young man.

"No idea," said Bucky. "Wouldn't surprise me if the Germans flanked and cut them off."

The thought didn't appeal to Bucky, but it would certainly explain why the 56th had dropped off the face of the planet in the last twenty-four hours and why Dugan's patrol had taken such a beating. Bucky still couldn't shake the image of Dugan's ashen, crestfallen face when he came back supporting his paralyzed soldier with John Nixon's help. Both men had been particularly distraught at leaving their dead man behind.

"You'd think they could figure that out before sending us in," muttered Joey Nelson under his breath. Their booted feet crunched over the hard soil. Bucky had never been one for communing with the great outdoors, but he would have given his next month's pay for the relative safety of trees. They started around the bank of a small pond.

"I bet this place is real nice normally," said Luis Morales, a twenty-year old optimist from Lubbock Texas.

Lovitz snorted in sarcastic laughter. "Yeah, it's a real postcard kind of spot, what with the bombs falling and bullets flying."

Bucky grinned. "Do you think they'll amend the travel brochures to include all the exciting details about the beaches?"

"Yeah, come for the clear blue water, stay for the sporadic machine gun fire, especially breathtaking from an army-issued landing craft," said Lovitz and Nelson had to cough to cover his laughter. Morales' shoulders shook along with Bucky's. It was in poor taste and Bucky knew that, but sometimes the only way they could all push through the misery was by having a laugh at it.

"You're going straight to hell, Lovitz," said Bucky under his breath.

"Well, I'll be in good company," replied Lovitz.

Bucky opened his mouth to respond but stopped. He held his closed fist up and as one the four men dropped to one knee. Bucky raised his rifle, aiming into the darkness. Voices carried through the still night and Bucky's blood turned to ice. The heavy accents didn't hail from jolly England, but rather came from the wrong side of the Rhine. He turned to motion for his men to fall back.

"Goddamnit!" Nelson's voice broke their silence as he keeled over backwards.

"Nelson's hit!" Morales said over the din of gunfire.

"Fall back!" Bucky ordered and started to go to Morales to help him get Nelson off the ground. Bullets whizzed past them and Lovitz tried firing a few rounds. "Fall back!"

Bucky had barely reached Nelson when he staggered sideways, clutching his right side. For a split second he thought he'd been lit on fire, such was the pain that sliced through his skin. Hissing, he pulled his hand back and in the shafts of moonlight he could see his hand wet and sticky with blood.

"Sarge!"

 **A/N: For the reviewers who have been asking whether Sadie is going to get captured at Azzano – that story arc is outlined but you'll have to read to find out! I think that you guys will find it satisfying no matter which way you're expecting it to go. I'm definitely looking forward to writing those chapters.**

 **Next chapter picks up right around where we leave off!**

 **Anyway, let me know what you guys think! I always enjoy reading feedback, predictions, questions etc. Much love – Kappa**


	8. Stitches and Envy

**A/N: Hello! This chapter comes to you via a blizzard that left my house surrounded with 18 inches of snow. A bit of a slower chapter this time, it is almost entirely devoted to Sadie and Bucky's relationship, and parts of it were beyond fun to write! Also – I don't know if the stitching steps are 100% accurate…so apologies in advance!**

 **Thank you a million times over for all of the love! For the reviewers comparing the opening scene last chapter to Saving Private Ryan – I'm deeply flattered…I actually did watch that scene and researched the Italian landings in preparation to write. Thanks to for all of the favorites and follows as well!**

 **The usual warnings for language apply!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Captain America. I do own Sadie and everyone else in the 80** **th** **field hospital!**

 **Chapter 8 – Stitches and Envy**

Nelson howled in agony the entire way back to F Company. As soon as they'd gotten out of the line of fire, they stopped long enough for Morales to break open the first aid kit to patch up Nelson. It turned out that two bullets had taken him down, one going straight through his shoulder and the other burying itself deep in his thigh, likely shattering the bone. Lovitz helped Bucky get field dressing around his chest, the thick padded bandage pressed over the wound on his right side. Morales and Lovitz carried Nelson back, trying their best not to make his injuries worse as they hobbled back to the line. Bucky followed, clenching his teeth in pain while he kept his rifle at the ready just in case. In the days that followed, Bucky would think with amazement that the four of them made it back alive.

"MEDIC!" Lovitz's cry told Bucky that they'd made it back to the safety of F Company. "MEDIC!"

Lieutenant McAllister and Captain Willis reached them first. "What happened?" Willis demanded as he intercepted and relieved an exhausted Morales.

McAllister was yelling for someone to radio a jeep. Lovitz hurriedly explained and as he spoke, Bucky stumbled and his exhausted body finally gave out. McAllister barely caught him, helping him down. "Medic!" He shouted over the confusion. "Hang in there, Bucky. How bad is it?"

Bucky gritted his teeth. "I don't know, but whatever hit me is still in there."

He could feel the searing pain slicing through flesh and nerve. If he tried to breathe too deeply or too fast he swore he could feel sharp metal edges rubbing directly against one of his ribs, scratching into the bone. Blood soaked through his undershirt and uniform, which McAllister had ripped open to better assess the wound. The sound of footfall was shortly followed by Nelson's strained groaning, a medic was clearly working on his wounds. McAllister called for another.

Less than a minute later another medic, Corporal Gannis, arrived. "How bad?"

"Bleeding like a son of a bitch, I can't see a damn thing," said McAllister. Bucky's body went rigid as he felt bare hands try to wipe away the blood, jostling whatever metal fragment was still inside of the wound. He heard the ripping of paper and seconds later Gannis dumped the contents of a sulfanilamide packet over the wound.

"I've got to try and get the damn thing out. Hey Barton, you got morphine?" He shouted at the other medic.

Bucky shook his head and raised a bloody hand to stop Gannis. F Company was critically low on morphine and the constant barrage of shelling had kept them from receiving more. "Save the morphine," he said shakily. "I can manage."

"You sure? Whatever's in there is deep."

"Yeah," said Bucky grimly.

He regretted this decision as soon as Gannis forced a pair of tweezers into his raw wound and started digging for the metal. Every muscle in his body went off in a chain reaction, contracting so tightly Bucky swore for a second he was having a seizure. He ground his teeth together to muffle his pained groaning. McAllister tried to steady Bucky, asking frantically where the jeep was.

" _Fuck_ , Gannis just get it out!" Bucky finally snapped at last. The metal ends of the forceps pinched and lanced into is flesh and blood continued to ooze from the wound, worse than before. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything Bucky had ever experienced in his life.

"I can't see a goddamn thing," said Gannis, trying to dig and restrain Bucky as the same time with McAllister. "It's too dark and there's too much blood."

"Then stop!" Bucky half-shouted.

"Christ, Gannis, let the doctors at the field hospital do it!"

Sweat poured down Bucky's face, obscuring his eyes and leaving a salty taste in his mouth that combatted the bitter adrenaline that lingered. There wasn't much he wouldn't have given for a shot of whiskey and the opportunity to punch Gannis' lights out. But he settled for swearing so badly that his mother would have likely fainted as the medic withdrew the forceps. He put fresh field dressing over the wound.

The jeep arrived minutes later and Bucky nearly cried with relief. Nelson went first, body relaxed thanks to morphine. Bucky was loaded second, helmet and rifle laid with him. The runner started towards the 80th field hospital, and Bucky felt every bump in the rough road along the way.

X X X

A quiet had settled over the 80th field hospital in the short hours before dawn on its third day in Italy. Having moved to keep up with the advancing line, the doctors and nurses had been working eighteen hour shifts to keep up with the constant flow of casualties. Sadie couldn't remember the last time she'd slept longer than four hours at a time and all thoughts of an actual bed were distant memories, replaced by the foxhole she shared with Evelyn.

Under the constant movement, the field kitchens hardly had time to set up and the last hot meal she'd eaten was two days prior. Resigned to cold K-rations and terrible coffee, Sadie often found herself thinking with longing for Sicily where hot meals were regular and she'd at least slept on a cot with her field jacket rolled up to serve as a pillow. So far the romance of the Italian countryside was entirely lost on Sadie and the other nurses of the 80th, too preoccupied with wounded men and the constant threat of shelling by the enemy. The drills that the army put the nurses through no longer seemed stupid as the earth rumbled beneath their feet and disrupted surgeries on a constant basis.

But, by some miracle, the flurry of activity slowed to a crawl and in the last two hours only three patients had come in. All relatively minor injuries, the nurses had happily assisted the doctors while the rest made the rounds on the remaining patients that were awaiting evacuation or those that were to return to the front line at dawn. Sadie herself was enjoying a well-deserved break from checking all the I.V. poles and the supplies in the first ward tent. She sat on a small footstool next to Evelyn, fighting with the wrapper of a Hershey's bar.

Evelyn was prattling on about a letter from home and Sadie only half listened as she managed to tear the wrapper away. She snapped the bar into two halves, handing one half over to Evelyn. "Then my mother spent the next two paragraphs telling me all about Davey Connelly and that he'd asked about me in a letter to home. Apparently his Yale law school connections got him a cushy job as an orderly to one of the big wigs with the 82nd airborne and he's been asking his own mother about me. I guess he doesn't like the idea of me tramping through Italy anymore than my mother does."

Sadie snorted in laughter before biting off a corner of her Hershey bar. The saga of Evelyn's battle with her mother over Davey Connelly, a wealthy boy from her hometown of Nashville was a constant source of amusement for Sadie and Betty. "Just because we're constantly elbow deep in blood and sleeping in holes in the ground? Whatever can they mean?"

Evelyn nudged Sadie's shoulder with hers, happily chewing on her own chocolate bar. "What's more alarming to me is that his mother and mine are talking, God knows what I'm going to come home to."

"Do you think she'll pick out your China pattern without you?" Sadie teased and Evelyn rolled her eyes, but still managed to look sufficiently horrified.

"I'm more worried she'll have finished my wedding dress by the time I get back. I've been trying to tell her that I'm not interested in Davey Connelly, but will she listen? No. She hears the words Yale law school and all rational thought goes right out the window."

Sadie chuckled. "She just wants what's best for you."

Evelyn shook her head. "She wants what's easy. Anyway, it'll never happen. After being here and seeing all this, there's no way I'd marry someone who used his fancy connections to take the easy route, especially when he's perfectly fit to serve on the front line. It's a sign of weakness if you ask me."

Privately Sadie agreed. They sat in happy quiet for a while longer, eating their chocolate while the rest of the hospital staff took advantage of their similarly quieted status. Sadie knew that the next day would bring ambulances to evacuate and fresh waves of the wounded, but she wouldn't let herself think about that. The nurses all learned early that one of the best ways to cope was to enjoy every ounce of peace when it came, because the moment could end as quickly as it started.

Just as Sadie entertained the idea of stretching her legs the sound of a jeep's engine grinding to a halt outside of the tent killed the notion. Evelyn sprang to her feet at the same time, the two women dashing outside to assist.

"Two wounded!" The runner shouted. As he and his companion disembarked from the jeep.

"How bad?"

"One critical, the other minor!" Sadie stepped back to they could unload the critical patient while two technicians rushed to the other.

"Someone get Doctors Holmes and Bayard!" Sadie yelled and she followed the technicians inside. Evelyn was already hard at work on the critically wounded man, running alongside the litter as it was carried inside. This left Sadie to manage the other and when she turned around her jaw dropped along with her stomach. Bucky hissed as the technicians set his litter down, supported by two crates. He had a bandage tied around the middle of his torso, over the right side of his ribcage. Every time he moved he winced, trying to find a comfortable spot. Sadie, spurred on by his discomfort approached and as he recognized her a disbelieving smile came to his face.

"Should have known it'd be you," he said through gritted teeth.

Sadie raised an eyebrow and she took her place at his side. "What happened?" She asked, reaching for the edge of his bandage.

"Combat patrol gone really, really wrong," he muttered. "Whatever's in there is still there, I can feel it moving around."

It was Sadie's turn to wince in sympathy. Prying the bandage away she could see where his uniform had been partially torn open to reveal a lip of skin torn open, at least two inches long and bleeding profusely. Whatever had gone in was barely visible, pushing up from beneath his skin. Sulfanilamide powder obstructed her view somewhat, but it was running off thanks to the blood that rushed to the surface. It was, fortunately for Bucky, an otherwise clean wound. "With any luck it will be easy to remove, but I want a Doctor to take a look."

Bucky nodded. His whole body was rigid, tense from the pain that Sadie imagined came just by the very act of breathing. She wondered how deep the fragment went and how badly it pushed against his ribs. "You need to relax," she said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. The line of Bucky's already defined jaw hardened even more and he squeezed his eyes shut as his breaths tripped one over the other, making the situation worse.

"Jesus Christ, it hurts," he muttered.

"Why didn't your unit medic give you any morphine?"

"We're running low," he ground out. "Don't want to waste it for something minor."

In Sadie's opinion no wound was minor, but she understood his sentiment. Bucky wasn't the first man she'd seen come through foregoing the comfort of morphine for the sake of his comrades. Bucky continued to try and put a brave face on. "Come on, buck sergeant," she said softly. Sliding her hand down, she gripped his left hand and squeezed it tightly. "Breathe as I count."

Bucky's eyes found hers, a veritable ocean crashing into a thunderstorm. Slowly, audibly, Sadie counted to five letting him draw in a breath with each count. As she moved her lips over the words, Sadie didn't dare break their gaze, she didn't want to. She'd never noticed how astonishingly blue Bucky's eyes were and how expressive they were. His body began to relax. She started when he rotated the hand in hers, slipping his fingers between hers. "Thank you."

Sadie stared at their joined hands. Somehow, without her brain's awareness, she'd closed her fingers over his. She could feel the calluses on his finger pads and his skin was rough from constant exposure to the elements. Absently, she started rubbing a comforting path into his skin. For days she'd been unconsciously keeping an eye out for Bucky, worried that he might become one of her wounded soldiers. Somewhere along the line, between his showy antics at the NYPOE and now they'd become friends. It was hard to share a foxhole with someone and not become friends, she reckoned, and she'd found herself actively hoping he wouldn't come through these tents ever.

Doctor Holmes appeared before Sadie could reply. He wore a white operating gown over his trousers and undershirt, an operating cap still covering his sandy brown hair and surgical mask around his neck. "What do we have?"

His voice was as weary as Sadie felt. "Sergeant Barnes, small penetrating wound on the right ribcage," she said, releasing her hold on Bucky to peel his bandage away again. "There's some foreign object just beneath the skin, maybe a small piece of shrapnel or ricochet?"

Doctor Holmes leaned closer to inspect. "Probably ricochet, you were on that combat patrol?"

"Yes, sir," said Bucky.

"Doesn't look too serious, think you can handle him on your own, Sadie? It's going to take two surgeons to handle the other man on his patrol and we just got wind that the Germans started shelling D and B Companies so it's about to get busy."

Sadie swallowed hard. Doctor Holmes had spent the last few weeks teaching the nurses in his ward how to managed wound care on their own, including administering local anesthetic, performing blood transfusions, and suturing wounds. Sadie had done these things individually under watchful eyes, but she'd never done it solo. Looking down at Bucky, she could see him watching her carefully. "I can handle it," she said, hardening her resolve.

"Good," he said. "Just remember all the steps we went over. You shouldn't have a problem. I'll check on your work after I finish up in surgery."

Without another word, Doctor Holmes strode away, ordering a technician to Sadie's side before he disappeared, headed back to the operation tent.

"Nurse?" The technician asked, awaiting her instruction.

"Go get a suture kit, a pair of gloves, gauze, small bandage, forceps, a syringe and procaine cartridge," she ordered. The technician nodded. He pulled two screens over and as Sadie started dragging them over to shield her work space, she heard the yelling of the first wave from D and B Companies. Bucky remained silent until Sadie returned to his side. She'd slipped into nurse mode, thinking only about the task set before her. The steps started coming to her mind.

"Prepare and clean the area," she said under her breath and put her attention back to Bucky. "Those shirts need to come off Sergeant Barnes," she said mechanically. "Think you can sit up?"

"Yeah," he said. Bucky started to push himself up and faltered. Sadie slipped her hand beneath his left arm, bracing his shoulder blade. He was warm to the touch and it took their combined effort to get him upright. Bucky swayed uncertainly for a moment, Sadie grasping his shoulders. He then started to unbutton his shirt with his left hand and once it was open she grasped the edges and helped him shrug out of it. Bucky's dog tags shone in the dull light form the lanterns hanging throughout the tent, resting on his firm chest. "Undershirt too?"

"Yes," said Sadie and she stopped him when he tried to peel it off himself. "Let me help you."

Despite his condition, wicked humor danced in Bucky's eyes. It hadn't escaped Sadie's notice that for all of his positive qualities, Bucky Barnes was still a red-blooded soldier. And he, like almost all the rest of his fellow men, was not above a wisecrack or two that swung in a decidedly inappropriate direction. Sadie, having endured jokes about undressing soldiers before, could see the words dancing on the tip of his tongue before he even spoke. Sadie fixed him with a fierce glare. "Maybe you should rethink what you're about to say? Considering I'm the one stitching you up?"

Bucky didn't even try to act abashed. Instead he gave her a somewhat lazy, pained grin. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, be a gentleman," said Sadie in reply as she moved his left arm in place. Bucky dropped his head back to try and hide his considerable pain from her face. Sadie grasped the hem of his undershirt and worked it carefully upwards, working his arm through the sleeve. "Hard part's over," she promised, managing to get the rest of the shirt off with no problem. "Lay back down on your left side."

Sadie turned away from him, folding his shirts and setting them to the side. The technician had reappeared with a tray of supplies. He stood next to her, his nervous gaze bouncing all over the place. "How bad is it out there?"

"Pretty bad," he replied.

Sadie looked over her supplies. "Iodine swab, scissors, forceps, needle, silk thread, procaine hydrochloride, syringe, collection tin, gloves, gauze, bandage," she said under her breath, counting off everything she needed. Once satisfied that she had everything she needed patted the technician on the shoulder. "I've got everything I need here. Go help out somewhere else."

He disappeared. Sadie went over the steps in her head. Swab and disinfect the area; inject local anesthetic to the wound area; wait for it to take effect; remove foreign object with forceps, being careful not to damage surrounding tissue; control any bleeding, prepare suture thread and needle; stitch the wound in evenly spaced stitches; bringing the skin to pucker slightly at the edges to reduce scarring; gauze; and bandage. Sadie grasped the tray to take it over to Bucky, repeating the steps to herself over and over again to keep her heart calm. "Swab and disinfect," she told herself and turned around.

Every single thought in her mind vanished and she nearly dropped the tray.

Bucky lay on his side, propping his head up with his right arm, his left draped over his bare chest. The lights in the tent bathed his skin in a golden glow, warming him over and highlighting the definition of his muscles. He was just the right kind of defined in Sadie's book, matching his obnoxiously handsome face with an equally handsome figure. She'd seen soldiers in all states of undress since landing in Sicily, but Bucky was the first man that stopped her dead in her tracks. Against Sadie's will her cheeks bloomed into a furious blush.

"Everything alright?" He asked.

Sadie wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. It was impossible not to stare at the way his muscle slid smoothly beneath his skin and the dark hair that dusted his chest, drawing inwards and downwards, disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. Sadie could feel the skin over her chest burning from the flush that spread across it as she pulled her gaze back up to the bandage. Damning her traitorous mind and heart, Sadie tried to tell herself that Bucky was just another wounded soldier, one that needed her care and attention. But it was nearly impossible when he tried to move to get comfortable and all Sadie wanted to do was run her fingers along his strong jawline, trailing down to his shoulders. Giving her head a hard shake, Sadie tried desperately to clear her mind.

"Just fine," she replied but her voice was tight.

"You have done this before, right?" Bucky asked, misreading her apprehension.

Sadie forced her legs to work and she took her place. "Unsupervised?"

The word slipped from her lips before she could stop it. Bucky, despite his current pain chuckled. "Don't lose all your confidence on me now, Sade. I'm counting on you to make this scar look good."

She wanted to smack his shoulder, but Bucky's impertinence had done the trick. Forcing herself to ignore his physique, Sadie got to work, snapping gloves over hands and swabbing the wound area with iodine. While waiting for it to dry she prepped the needle, recalling the instructions Doctor Holmes had given her. Bucky bit back a hiss of pain as she slid the needle into his skin and injected a portion of the anesthetic before injecting him twice in different places near to the gash. Sadie knew that it had started to take effect when Bucky's whole body finally relaxed.

"Thank God," he muttered.

Sadie couldn't help but grin now. "Sorry I had to keep you waiting so long."

He shook his head once. Now that he was numb, Sadie was able to reposition his arm to give her better sight. He was still warm to the touch and his was skin smoother than she expected. She took the forceps and pushed them into his wound carefully. Sadie's brow furrowed, the fragment had wormed its way deeper than she'd expected. Bucky remained perfectly still as she worked until she closed the tips over something hard, something that definitely did not belong there. Sadie withdrew the forceps gently until a large piece of ricochet wormed free.

"You're lucky, just a piece of ricochet. The bullet must have caught the ground or a rock." Bucky nodded. "So what happened?" She asked while she prepped the needle and silk thread. Bucky scowled. "You don't have to tell me. I shouldn't have asked," she added hastily.

"I took three of my guys on a combat patrol to link up with the British 56th. German gunfire got us before we could get to the Brits."

Sadie couldn't think of much to say in reply. She poised her hand over his skin, the tip of the needle centimeters away. "You might feel some tugging, but it shouldn't hurt."

Without waiting for his assent, Sadie started her stitch, following Doctor Holmes' instructions to the letter. They were silent while she worked. Bucky's eyes fluttered shut at some point and for a moment she swore he'd gone to sleep when his voice drifted back to her. "I like you when you order people around," he said with a lazy grin. "I mean, I like you all the time, but the take-charge attitude really suits you, Sade."

Sadie's lips pulled into a small smile and a flush glowed in her cheeks at the possible insinuation. She liked that he called her Sade; the nickname rolled pleasantly off his tongue. "Thank you. Though, I can't say I like seeing you wounded," she admitted.

"That makes two of us."

Sadie finished off the suture, clipping the excess thread with scissors. Swiftly she laid gauze down and bandaged him up. "All done," she said. Sadie helped Bucky sit back up and for the first time she realized how close they were. His face was less than a foot from hers, she could smell the tang of sweat and fresh earth on his skin. One of her bare hands rest on his left side while his held onto her upper arms, steadying himself. Bucky's closeness was unexpected, but welcoming. Sadie found she didn't mind at all the way his eyes roved over her face, as though memorizing each freckle.

"I want you to stay for the next day or so, to keep you from getting infected and tearing your stitches." Bucky nodded. "I'll have technicians transfer you to a cot, they'll get a new uniform for you, since you can't go back in the field wearing these. So make sure you get what you need out of the pockets" Sadie laid his shirts at one end of the stretcher.

"Hey," said Bucky, reaching out and touching her wrists. Sadie's heart broke into a dead sprint, though she wished it wouldn't. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"You're very welcome, buck sergeant," said Sadie.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, grinning at her. "Still won't call me Bucky?"

"Nope," she said, popping the 'p.'

"After everything we've been through? After we both did so great just then?"

"I did great," she teased. "You just laid there."

"Hey!" Said Bucky in mock offense. "Personally, I think I was a model patient."

Sadie crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. "I bet I could rustle up a sucker since you were such a brave boy," she sarcastically.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, only to stop when his ribs protested the action. Still, he was grinning affectionately. He looked as though he wanted to say something further when Evelyn poked her head around the screen. "You done yet? We could really use you out here!"

Sadie nodded. "Coming."

She turned back to Bucky who motioned for her to get out. "Go, be someone else's hero."

Sadie was still beaming as she left him. The broad smile left her face mere seconds later, but the warmth in her chest didn't dissipate until several hours later.

X X X

When Bucky was a child he'd often been in trouble with his teachers. Every report card he brought home from school contained a different variation on the same sentiment. James Buchanan Barnes, while bright and engaging, suffered from the complete and total inability to sit still. He'd fidgeted in at his desk, drummed on the edge with his school pencils, and tapped his toes to the beat of a song nobody else could hear. Though he learned to control his compulsion to be in constant motion as he grew older, Bucky never quite shed his restless personality.

His teachers' frustrations were clearly shared by the staff of the 80th Field Hospital as he entered his second day of bed rest. While Doctor Holmes, Sadie's superior, had been thoroughly impressed with her work, he'd disagreed with her assessment that Bucky could rejoin the line after a day. He'd ordered three days of rest to ensure no additional complications arose. In that span of time Bucky earned the ire of the men in the beds next to him, at first for making fast friends with the nurses and then because he simply could not hold still. At one point he'd gotten so irritating that one of the nurses confiscated the clicker all the men used in the field during maneuvers. Then he'd been admonished for trying to distract the staff, desperate for a conversational partner when his fellow soldiers proved to be miserable company.

The brightest spot of his time at the hospital came when he learned that Nelson was going to pull through, though the bullet in his leg shattered his femur. It was a one-way ticket home, one Bucky didn't begrudge his friend at all. He'd been allowed to see Nelson for a few seconds as he was being evacuated.

The other small joys Bucky got in his day were the few times Sadie had been by, checking up on how well he was healing. Bucky tried to get her to stay longer and succeeded in worming a few extra minutes of conversation out of her before she moved on. The men laying in the beds on either side had regarded him with some measure of awe, that he'd managed to befriend the pretty brunette who moved through the first ward tent like a small tornado. Each time Bucky saw Sadie she looked more exhausted than the last, prompting him to badger her about how long her shifts were, how much she was sleeping, and if she was eating enough. On his third attempt at extracting the information while Sadie gently poked and prodded his stitches, she'd given him such a withering glare that lesser men would have cowered.

"Who are you, my mother?" She snapped, much to Bucky's amusement.

"I thought army nurses were supposed to be cheerful and comforting?" He mused.

"I'm very cheerful and comforting, so long as the patient in question isn't an unconscionable pain in my backside." Bucky laughed so loudly that several people nearby had looked up to see what the commotion was about. The brilliant pink glow in Sadie's cheeks had been well-worth her ire and Bucky realized that he hadn't had this much fun since before boot camp.

At the moment, however, Sadie was nowhere to be seen. A group of soldiers had been evacuated, leaving the cot on Bucky's left side empty while the guy on his right snored lightly in his sleep. Bucky amused himself with watching the comings and goings of the first ward tent. An ache persisted in his right side but it was a manageable pain, so much better than where he'd been two nights prior.

From his spot near the far end of the tent, he had a good view of most of the action. He perked up slightly when a vaguely familiar blonde entered the tent. Bucky couldn't recall her name, or if he'd ever known it, but he knew she was one of Sadie's friends. She shifted her weight, hands on her shapely hips as she surveyed the tent. The blonde was one of those women that made the homely olive drab field uniforms look like something from the pages of a fashion magazine. She scanned the tent, ambling down the main aisle when her critical eyes settled on him. Bucky squirmed slightly, unsure of the intention behind the grin that slowly curled up the corners of her mouth.

Clearly on a mission, she changed her course directly for him, hips swaying. Bucky noted with mild amusement that more than one head popped up to watch her as she practically sashayed over to where Bucky lay. Ruffling his already mussed hair in a nonchalant manner, Bucky raised an eyebrow when she stopped right at the foot of his cot.

"You haven't seen Sadie have you?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nurse Reid?" He asked, feigning innocence. "Why would I have seen the good nurse?"

The blonde raised her eyebrow, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Don't play dumb, sarge. I know exactly who you are."

Bucky stretched his arms to fold them behind his head and he crossed one booted foot over the other. "And just exactly who am I supposed to be?" He wondered aloud.

"Sergeant Barnes, the guy who Sadie stitched up two nights ago? The guy who took her for a stroll around Messina, the other guy in the foxhole, the jerk from the NYPOE?"

Bucky sat up slightly at that, a frown tugging at his lips. Part of his carefully crafted bravado fell. "She called me a jerk?"

The blonde tapped a finger to her lips and quirked her face up in a quizzical expression. "Well, you know I don't remember the exact wording."

Ignoring his scowl, she grabbed a nearby footstool and plopped down on it. "I don't recall being a jerk," he said. "A flirt, maybe. But definitely not a jerk."

She gave a half laugh. "Same thing in Sadie's book when it comes to army guys. I'm Betty Carnahan, by the way." Betty held out her hand. Bucky shifted so he could take it. Her hands bore the same calluses that he'd noticed on Sadie's.

"Bucky Barnes."

"I know," said Betty with an impish smile. "Sadie told me."

Bucky tried not to be offended that Sadie used his name in front of her friends but refused to call him Bucky to his face. Instead, he tried to focus on the better, more interesting piece of information. "Sadie talks about me?"

Betty snorted in laughter. "Like I'm going to tell you," she teased. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"How long have you known her?" He asked after a moment's silence.

Betty placed her elbows on her knees and rest her chin in her hands. "We met the first day of nursing school along with Evelyn, the red head. We roomed together during school. It was Sadie that convinced us to join the nursing corps. The rest, as they say, is history."

As Betty spoke, Bucky realized with a jolt how little he actually knew about Sadie. He knew about her tenure in the army and little facts about her he'd extracted during conversation, but those were just fragments of the story. Bucky was ravenous to know more. "Why join the army at all? Girls like you and Sadie could go anywhere."

A sad smile tugged at Betty's lips. "You really don't know?" Bucky shook his head. "Figures. Mind you she'd murder me if she knew I told you, so don't go blabbing. But, Sadie's father was a doctor, a good surgeon and when things started to look bad a few years ago he joined up with the Navy. He died at Pearl Harbor. Drowned in one of the ships that went down." A far off look swirled into Betty's eyes. "We sat up with her all night after hearing the news. Anyway, Sade said she was joining up. Evie and I weren't going to let her go running off to war alone, so we went together."

Bucky had been rendered silent. Betty watched him carefully, as though weighing to decide whether to keep talking and dig the hole even deeper. "Sadie was different after she came back from her father's funeral. I don't think you can go through something like that and be the same. She's quieter and so focused on her job that sometimes she forgets that she's allowed to have her own life. I think she just doesn't want the women at home to go through what she and her mother did. That if she can save even a handful of lives then she's done her father proud. It's stupid, of course. Sadie's father adored her, she could do no wrong in his eyes."

"I had no idea," he said at last.

Betty smiled at him warmly. "I'm not surprised. Sadie's not the type to go trumpeting her life story to the masses."

"I noticed," said Bucky.

"But you like her," said Betty with a knowing expression. It wasn't a question or even a guess, and Bucky felt suddenly uncomfortable under her intense, unflinching gaze. Betty was blunt to a fault, and Bucky wondered how many times it had gotten her into trouble with superiors and parents. When Bucky didn't answer immediately, Betty arched an expertly manicured eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Sighing, he flopped his head back onto his pillow, wincing as he jostled his stitches. "Is it that obvious?" He asked, mild embarrassment in his voice.

Betty shrugged. "Only to Evie and I, and that's just because we know who you are."

"Oh," said Bucky lamely. She swatted his shoulder with a laugh.

"It's not a bad thing! Sadie is my best friend, I think whoever she ends up with is a lucky guy, though she's not an easy nut to crack. But you seem up to the challenge."

Challenge was perhaps the best word Bucky could use to describe Sadie. He'd never met a woman so decidedly wonderful and so utterly immune to him. Sadie, by all appearances, seemed perfectly content being his friend. This wouldn't have bothered Bucky except as the days wore on he was becoming increasingly unsatisfied with just being friends. "Yeah," he said, unwilling to divulge any more than that.

Betty pretended to fuss with the curls pinned up at the back of her neck, but it was clear she was perfectly unruffled by his vague response. Bucky wondered if anything ever irritated the blonde. The tent flaps nearest him opened and Bucky's eyebrows flew up to see Lieutenant McAllister stroll inside. It took him a few seconds to spot Bucky and strode over to him. A broad grin stretched across his all-American face.

"Sergeant Barnes!" He boomed and came around to the other side of Bucky's cot. Sticking out a hand he shook Bucky's, his grip tight. "How you feeling, Buck?"

"Aside from the gaping hole in my side? Just fine, sir," he said and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He wore a fresh undershirt and uniform shirt and Bucky was startled at the stark contrast between his clean olive drab and McAllister's dirty clothing. Bucky could see a couple of holes and small tears in the fabric, telling him that the last two days hadn't been any better. "How's it going on the front?"

"Fine, fine," said McAllister dismissively. "Your men are in total disarray without you," he said as an afterthought, though Bucky suspected this was the sole purpose of McAllister's unannounced appearance.

"I'll bet," said Bucky. "I hope they aren't giving you too much grief."

McAllister rocked back on his heels, looking uncomfortable. "Well, that's actually why I'm here."

But McAllister was interrupted by a familiar southern drawl. "Someone's popular today," said Sadie as she appeared at the foot of Bucky's cot.

Her grey eyes hovered somewhere between mild amusement and irritation. "Nurse Reid," said McAllister as though he'd been shocked at the sight of her. Sadie's gaze pulled from Bucky to him, lips rounding in surprise. When she didn't immediately respond it became obvious to Bucky that she'd at the very least forgotten his name. "Lieutenant Henry McAllister with F Company, we met," but Sadie nodded in recognition.

"The first night in Sicily," she finished for him. "Something about a bombed aid station and me being where I wasn't supposed to rings a bell. You've come to see Sergeant Barnes?"

McAllister shoved his hands in his pockets, visibly nervous. Bucky watched with rapt attention at the interaction between the pair. Sadie seemed keen to avoid eye contact while McAllister wouldn't take his eyes off her. Bucky felt a nasty prickling in his stomach. "Actually, I'm here to see if Bucky here is fit to return to the front line. We're facing heavy fire and I could use all of my good non-coms."

"Well, that's not a decision for the nurses. It's up to Sergeant Barnes' doctor to determine whether he's fit for duty," said Sadie politely. "I do know that Doctor Holmes wanted him to stay another day."

Sadie's eyes flickered back to Bucky, and he swore he could see hesitation. Did she want him to stay longer for his health? Or was she hesitant for him to return to the front line and consequently danger? Bucky knew she cared for him as a friend, but he didn't know how deep that affection extended. All he knew was that he wanted all of her attention and the needling in his stomach had everything to do with the mere thought of McAllister swooping in to steal it away. "Do you think Doctor Holmes has a minute to talk to me?"

"Sure," said Sadie and this time her unease was unmistakable. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Betty turn her face away, hand covering her smirk. "Doctor Holmes and I are are both getting off shift in the next couple of minutes and we usually eat with some of the other staff at the field kitchen."

"Perfect! You don't mind if I join you for a quick bite. Do you, Nurse Reid?"

Betty coughed suspiciously and Bucky's hackles rose at the insinuation. It was a sly thing to do, Bucky thought, taking advantage of the situation like that. Sadie was backed into a corner. She couldn't well refuse McAllister's self-invitation and Bucky found himself wanting to intervene on her behalf. "Of course not, Lieutenant. Why don't you wait outside the tent, I'll be there in a second."

McAllister said his goodbyes and left. Sadie turned the full force of her irritation on Betty. "Could you be any more rude?" Betty shrugged and picked at an invisible thread on her sleeve. "What are you doing here anyway? Last time I remember you were supposed to be in the second ward tent?"

"I got off shift early and came looking for you. But my current company is equally enjoyable."

Bucky didn't know whether to laugh or to cower at the sight of the storm clouds rolling over Sadie's face. If it were possible he knew that lightning forks would appear over her head and tiny thunderclaps would accompany the stiff lines of her body. "You're unbelievable," she snapped. "And now you're going to come to the field kitchen with me. Sergeant Barnes? I'll see you tomorrow during my morning rounds."

Sadie stormed out of the tent before Bucky could say goodbye. Betty patted Bucky's knee before she rose to her feet. "You'd be green right now, if that were possible," she said and Bucky could feel his face burn. Had his jealousy really been so obvious? God, he hoped not. "A word of advice, Sergeant. Sadie is never going to let you in if you don't take the initiative. But once she lets the walls down don't you dare hurt her."

"Or I'll have you to deal with?" Bucky surmised.

"No," she said. "I think Sadie can do a decent job handling you on her own."

Bucky smiled. That sounded about right. Betty waved goodbye and then he was alone with his thoughts. More than anything, he wanted Steve to be there. For the first time in memory, Bucky actively needed his friend's help untangling the unfamiliar emotions that had accompanied Sadie's entrance into Bucky's life. He laid back down, staring at the roof of the tent and hoped that Sadie had a terrible time eating dinner with Lieutenant Henry McAllister.

X X X

Lieutenant McAllister got his wish and Bucky returned to the front line with his commanding officer less than two hours after the Lieutenant's arrival. The rushed nature of the departure and McAllister's blatant string-pulling had left a bad taste in her mouth. Sadie would never admit it aloud to anyone, but she enjoyed having Bucky's friendly presence in the ward tent. She'd always laughed in private over his antics, determined to never let him get the better of her in person. He'd left without saying goodbye, which left Sadie to wonder if he'd wanted to say goodbye and why she cared so much.

Those thoughts stayed with her over the next week. After a few days of struggle, the 107th managed to force back the German line and advanced several kilometers inland. The 80th field hospital followed, taking up residence in D Company's old position. It was a prime spot for the hospital, with foxholes and latrines already dug in and an open road to evacuate the wounded. Sadie and Betty shared a foxhole, dug deep into the soil set beneath their tent for additional cover. It seemed that Sadie went some days where she hardly saw her friends, too consumed by her work and the constant flow of patients.

Sadie found she didn't mind, though. The time went by quickly, which didn't allow her mind to wander often. In the short hours she had to sleep, Sadie's mind drifted to better things. Often she dreamt of home, of the smell of honeysuckles in the springtime and whiling summer afternoons away immersed in a good book. She read and re-read letters from home, imagining her mother writing them in the front room where the mid-morning sun poured over the cherry desk there.

At the end of their first week in Italy, Sadie and Betty ended up getting off shift together. They'd eaten, washed up, and drug themselves into their foxhole. Betty spent the better part of half an hour trying to get Sadie to spill the beans about Bucky. Sadie remained tight-lipped, refusing to divulge anything. How could she tell Betty how she felt about Bucky when she didn't know herself? They'd fallen asleep, Betty's head slumping down onto Sadie's shoulder.

Both women slept in peace, neither aware of the two surgeries in progress in the operation tent. Sadie had no idea that Evelyn was fast asleep in the foxhole she shared with Ruthie Lafferty or that Peggy was still awake, re-reading intelligence reports for the third time to try and soak up every last detail. She had no clue that runners had brought two new wounded men into the first ward tend within the last thirty minutes or that B Company had come under enemy fire during the night. Sadie, in her deep sleep, was entirely unaware what the day would hold for her.

Stillness permeated the nurse's camp. Betty shifted and nestled her head deeper into Sadie's shoulder. A light breeze fluttered through their small tent, carrying the sweet, early September air inside. Sadie twitched as she dreamt about laying across the porch swing at her house, bare feet propped up on one armrest. Her head lay in someone's lap and when she looked up, she found a familiar face smiling down at her.

Sadie gave a small gasp of surprise as she woke.

She had no idea whether it was the shock of seeing Bucky in dream or the sound of a mortar burst that woke her. Betty sat up next to her, blinking blearily into the darkness.

"What is it?"

An answer was unnecessary. Both women clapped their hands over their ears as another mortar went off, so close that the tent rattled and part of the dry earth at the top of their foxhole crumbled.

The 80th field hospital was under attack.

 **A/N: Next chapter picks up right where we leave off. We'll see the nurses of the 80** **th** **in action, as well as Peggy, and we'll drop in on Bucky too! We're nearing the Azzano chapters!**

 **Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Let me know what you think! Much love – Kappa.**


	9. Flashlights and Foreboding

**A/N: Hello all! Sorry for delays, setting up this chapter and next were tougher than I originally thought and I needed to take a step back and really evaluate how to handle them. I thoroughly research nearly aspect of this story as I write –so for those wondering, field and evacuation hospitals were indeed attacked during the war – bombed by planes, long-range artillery, and targeted by snipers. Some of the events in this chapter are inspired by real-life accounts from hospital personnel and I hope that I did them justice.**

 **Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the love! Last chapter got the most reviews I've had so far! Special thanks to Mopargirl1 for all the advice and to Anastacia Lynn who helped motivate me to get writing!**

 **This chapter merits warning – it contains some graphic violence, language, and death. I've decided not to pull the punches after getting such a wonderful response from the past couple of chapters. That being said – you've been forewarned.**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Captain America!**

 **Chapter 9 – Flashlights and Foreboding**

During her first days in Italy, Peggy Carter had rapidly learned to read by flashlight. Almost every night she settled into her tent with intelligence reports, translated code, troop movement reports, combat summaries, and the dozens of other pieces of paper she saw in a day. Peggy felt like a child reading late at night beneath her bedcovers, afraid of being caught by her parents. Only in this case she wasn't hiding beneath her bed sheets and she was far more afraid of Nazi counterattacks than she was of her parents.

It was somewhere past two in the morning according to her watch and Peggy had read the same paragraph three times in a row. At some point in the last hour her vision had become fuzzy and her bloodshot eyes burned as she tried to force herself to focus. Making sense of military intelligence reports typically didn't vex her too much, unless the author in question couldn't string together a sentence even with a gun to his head. As Peggy tried to process the information laid out before her, she was starting to think that the particular author of these reports couldn't even read, much less write coherently. Then again, she thought as she rubbed her eyes, smearing her eyeliner, it could be that she'd lost the ability to read.

If someone had told Peggy from the outset how much reading was involved in being an SSR agent, she might have thought twice about joining up. Pushing the offending report aside, she looked down at the map of Italy stretched across the small rickety table in her tent. The flashlight she used to read hung suspended from the support pole in her tent, tied up with a length of string. It cast a circle of light over the map, which she'd marked up with several of her own notations. Most recently, she'd used a red colored pencil to draw a circle around the municipality of Azzano Decimo, a small town less than one hundred and fifty kilometers from the Austrian border. She'd put another large circle around a chunk of nothing but Austrian forest just over the border, with a question mark in the center.

"Why southern Austria?" Peggy asked herself, rubbing the back of her stiff neck. At first blush there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to a HYRDA base in southern Austria. It was Nazi-occupied territory and far away from the action. Nothing but dense wood and miniscule villages dotted the countryside. There was very little about Azzano Decimo that should have been attractive to HYRDA. It was hundreds of kilometers from the front lines. And yet, the Special Operations Executive intelligence reports on HYDRA all said the same thing: the Nazis and a small contingent of HYRDA soldiers had occupied the woods outside of Azzano and were launching small attacks on the town which had held its own thus far.

The Special Operations Executive, or SOE, was a top-secret British organization devoted to covert intelligence-gathering. Peggy had left her job as a code-breaker to join the SOE before moving on to the SSR. Familiar with its internal structure and workings, she often reviewed the SOE intelligence packets to summarize for Colonel Phillips. Already she'd passed on a copy and summary of the packet she was currently reviewing, but Peggy couldn't help but feel like she'd missed something.

"Agent Carter?" Colonel Phillips' voice drifted through the tent flaps.

"Come in, Colonel," said Peggy as she stood. He ducked inside, a thick folder in one hand and his flashlight in the other.

"At ease, Carter," he said dismissively and she sat back down. "Reading by flashlight," he grumbled under his breath. "Millions of dollars in the war chest, but the army can't spare a few damn lanterns."

Peggy's lips twitched, but she held back her smile. "What can I do for you, Sir?" She asked, diverting the subject.

Phillips held up the SOE packet. "You read all of this?"

It was a particularly stupid question, thought Peggy. Of course she'd read the report, she'd summarized it for him, hadn't she? Wisely, she kept her thoughts to herself and leaned back as well as she could in her camp chair. "Yes, Sir," she said.

Colonel Phillips' eyes darted to the map she'd spread over her table and began to peruse the notes she'd scribbled in the margins of her copy of the report. In Peggy's opinion, the intelligence was shoddy at best.

"So, the SOE is finally setting up camp in Italy," said Phillips slowly, with a mild air of distrust. Peggy knew the only reason he was discussing the report with her at all was because none of the other SSR staff had clearance to review SOE intelligence.

"Yes, Sir," she said. The report had been fairly clear in its background. The SOE had sent operatives into northern Italian towns to try and bolster support for an anti-fascist resistance in hopes of slowing down the German advance north towards Austria. Part of establishing the resistance required slow, meticulous work, sending covert operatives into smaller villages and making contacts that eventually turned into a larger web. It was a second attempt on the SOE's part after an earlier failed try at recruiting Italian prisoners of war in Africa. So far, this fresh attempt seemed to be working.

"So, the SOE thinks it can fight Mussolini with a bunch of angry civilians and a few pitchforks?" Phillips enquired, less-than-convinced.

Peggy fought a scowl. "It's more complicated than that," she murmured. Colonel Phillips' confidence in British espionage and intelligence ranked somewhere below his opinion of the United States Congress, much to Peggy's dismay. "If Mussolini's regime falls it will be beneficial to have a large resistance in the north to help choke off the Nazi advance or retreat out of Italy."

Phillips wiped a hand over his tired face. "And one of these operatives intercepted the code?" He continued, moving down the bullet points of Peggy's summary.

"My understanding is our operative intercepted the code while making contact with a small group of anti-fascist leaders in Azzano," said Peggy. She began to shuffle through her scattered papers until she produced the pages detailing the full story. During the meeting in a small Italian pub, an SOE operative was passed a single piece of paper by her contact bearing a single phrase. _Two heads are better than one_. "The SOE believes the code is related to HYDRA. Cut off one head," she started to say but was cut off.

"Two more grow in its place," said Phillips unhappily. "And the keyhole photographs were taken after this supposed meeting?"

Peggy nodded and spread out her pictures. The resolution of the pictures was particularly low quality, telling Peggy the reconnaissance plane couldn't fly low. But the grainy photographs still showed what appeared to be a massive complex in the Austrian forest, just north of the border. "The intelligence packet also includes reports from SOE contacts that a Nazi division has been attacking with HYRDA-made weapons. They're older models, but those weapons haven't been seen anywhere else in Italy."

"So HYRDA is in Austria," said Colonel Phillips with a sense of finality.

"It appears so," Peggy replied cagily.

Her tone betrayed her uncertainty. Colonel Phillips' scowl deepened. "Do you disagree?" There was a challenge in his voice, daring her to stand up to him.

Peggy never shied away from the bait when it was so willingly thrown to her. "I believe HYRDA has an operation there," she said. "But the pieces fit together too easily," she said. "The code should be more difficult to break and our SOE operative just happens to intercept it from the first contact made in Azzano? HYRDA weaponry popping up in the north after weeks and not so much as a single sign of its presence anywhere in the Mediterranean?"

"You think it's a setup."

"Yes, sir," said Peggy firmly. "Up until now, HYRDA has covered its tracks remarkably well until the bombing incident in Sicily which brought us to Italy and now a single code is going to take us off the front lines to go north? None of it makes sense."

A light of grudging respect flashed in Colonel Phillips' dark eyes. For a while he read and re-read certain parts of the report, reviewed the map and then sighed. Pinching the bridge of his nose he seemed to age ten years right before Peggy's eyes. "You know, you might be right, Agent Carter," he agreed, surprising her.

"I feel like there's a rather large 'but' coming on," she said.

"Battalion HQ and General Clark think the intel is sound, he's ordered the 107th off the front line and given the SSR permission to direct its movements north."

"To Azzano," said Peggy faintly.

"Yeah," said Phillips. "The 107th has been ordered to take back Azzano and defend against the Nazi division while we figure out what the hell HYRDA is doing all the way up in Austria."

Peggy nodded slowly, wishing she could ignore the dread that compressed her lungs. "When?"

"The 107th comes off the front line at dawn," but a distant rumbling cut off Colonel Phillips. Peggy's heart skipped a beat. The troop movement reports she read hadn't said anything about an allied air strike or movement set for tonight. Phillips' frown deepened. "Those aren't our planes," he muttered.

Peggy's hands moved before her brain caught up. Hastily she began to gather her papers, maps, and photographs. Phillips lurched to his feet as the ground trembled. "Carter, get your reports together and then get in a foxhole!" He ordered and then dashed out of his tent.

Peggy ducked again as another bomb went off some distance away, and her tent shook. Overhead her flashlight swung on its string, and she tugged it down with a sharp pull. She grappled for her helmet and turned the flashlight off, leaping into her foxhole as the bombs fell closer and closer to their camp. A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. Was the hospital under attack, too?

X X X

In nursing school, Sadie and her friends all took a psychology seminar where they learned about the acute stress response. Also known as the fight of flight response, Sadie's professor had explained that it was deeply engrained, a survival tactic present throughout the ages. When up against the wall with the clock running out, a person's sense of self preservation would kick in and it was anybody's guess as to what it would do. Fight or flee?

Sadie had often thought about this since joining the Army Nursing Corps. What would she do when put to the real test? It was one thing to handle wave upon wave of wounded men when the threat level was minimal and she knew her own life wasn't at risk. But when given the option between running for cover and running directly into danger, Sadie always figured the decision would require some thoughtful consideration.

As it turned out, it didn't.

Hauling her body out of her foxhole and dashing towards the first ward tent was just second nature. Maybe it was devotion to her job or perhaps she had no sense of self-preservation, but Sadie didn't even think twice about sprinting to the first ward tent while planes roared overhead. She couldn't see the insignia on the wings, but it wasn't hard to figure they were enemy planes. Nobody else would drop their payload on the massive field hospital tents, each painted with the red cross. As she ran at break-neck speed, Sadie held her steel helmet atop her head with one hand. She knew that Evelyn, Betty, and Ruthie were all behind her, she'd caught a glimpse of them emerging from the nurse's camp along with everyone else.

They'd been trained for this. But the reality was something different altogether as the ground quaked beneath her boots and the air was thick with sound. The planes flew low overhead, their engines roaring and each time a bomb slammed into the earth the resulting 'boom' carried the ear-splitting sound of a hundred thunder claps at once. Sadie's heart pounded so hard against her breastbone she thought it might come out as she burst into the first ward tent to find it in chaos. She was the first nurse to arrive and wasted no time finding her technicians running with supplies in their arms and helmets jammed on their heads.

Rolling her eyes, Sadie stopped the first few she ran into. "Get helmets on every patient, those who can move themselves are to get beneath their cots and await evacuation, we help the rest onto the ground. Begin tagging priority patients for evacuation and pass the word along!" She ordered.

A bomb hit too close for Sadie's comfort, the entire tent shook and the cots rattled. Sadie struggled to keep her balance and she stayed low, beginning at one end of the tent as her fellow nurses streamed in, following her lead.

Sadie helped the men she could on her own, ignoring their protests that it didn't matter if they were on the ground or not when the bombs hit. She didn't have time for their banter and promptly ignored each and every one while she checked bandages and tagged her priority patients. "Nurse Reid!"

Doctor Holmes had come in, looking harried and wearing his operating smock over his full uniform. He looked an odd sight, ready for surgery while wearing his helmet. "We've only got one man in surgery from the last wave, the operating tables are open. What can I do to help?"

Sadie jerked her head towards a large soldier with a broken leg she'd been treating. "Help me with him," she said, but her voice was drowned out by more planes speeding through the skies. Instead she jerked her head towards the behemoth of a man, well over six feet tall and two hundred pounds at the lightest. Doctor Holmes's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he pushed his sleeves up and followed her to the patient and together the two of them managed to heave the kid onto the ground, moving his cot over him and ensuring his helmet was on tight.

The bombs fell, shaking the ground and at one point another close hit caused Sadie to lose her balance and she fell into Doctor Holmes. It was slow work but the first wave of ambulances arrived and the first patients were evacuated in the break between bombings. Evacuating wounded men on to every available jeep and waiting ambulance was difficult; there were so many moving bodies and under the cover of darkness it was nearly impossible to see much of anything. Vehicles left, driving blind to the evacuation hospital and each patient that got out of the 80th was one less that Sadie had to worry about. Sadie kept her helmet jammed on top of her head and using nothing more than flashlights, the hospital staff held their breath as they worked, praying the planes would continue to miss their mark. Forcing the morbid thought out of her mind, Sadie threw herself into her work.

After all, Sadie figured if she was going to die she'd rather do it doing her job instead of sitting in a hole in the ground.

She kept a flashlight pressed between her shoulder and cheek as she tightly wrapped another bandage around a wounded man's thigh. He was groaning in pain as she tied the bandage off, but she was too focused to notice or care. Whole sections of soldiers were ready to go, just waiting for the vehicles to return in the blessed silence after the wave of airplanes left. Once he was safely on the ground, Sadie turned to find another patient but her blood turned to ice as the deafening roar started up again.

For a few heart-stopping seconds, Sadie stood rooted to the ground, looking up to the roof of the tent. The engines, louder than she'd ever heard were directly overhead. The first blast whipped outside edges of the first ward tent and several members of the staff and patients all screamed and yelled. Sadie's feet seemed cemented into the dirt, her entire body incapable of any movement. Her brain was yelling at her to move, to duck for cover but there was disconnect somewhere along the line as she remained frozen, a statue in the face of the unbelievable danger.

A hand closed over her wrist and jerked her to the side and onto her knees, hard. "For God's sake Sadie, are you trying to get killed?" A voice yelled in her ear.

Doctor Holmes pulled Sadie to the ground, dragging her beneath an examination table. He threw his arm over her shoulder to help keep her down, using his other hand to keep his steel helmet on his head. Sadie pressed her palms flat against the helmet as the planes roared overhead. The noise was deafening, setting her teeth rattling and eardrums throbbing. Doctor Holmes held onto her tighter and she gritted her teeth to swallow her scream as the first impact blew somewhere nearby. Sadie thought the ground might split open and drag them both straight to hell, a safer alternative to where they were.

In the few flashes of light Sadie could see the face of a soldier directly across from her. He lay on his side, helmet strapped to his head. His arm was in a cast, pressed tight to his chest, pain written all over his young face. Wide-eyed, Sadie stared at the soldier and he stared right back, just as terrified as she was.

And then the world really did split open. The side of the tent blew apart and the examination table above Sadie and Doctor Holmes went with it. A raw scream ripped from her throat as the force of the explosion blew her into the air. Thrown away from the blast radius, Sadie and Doctor Holmes flew through the smoky air like ragdolls until she felt her back slam into the edge of a cot before she fell down to the hard earth Another strangled yell escaped her throat as the exam flat top of the light examination table smashed into her side before bouncing off, coming to rest a few feet away.

Gasping for air, Sadie's eyes felt as though they would explode from the pressure and . "Oh God, Oh God," she kept repeating to herself between her struggle for air. Each inhalation hurt worse than the last as fresh smoke streamed into her lungs.

"Sadie!" Doctor Holmes' strangled yell. "SADIE!"

Groaning, Sadie rolled onto her side and then stomach. Her fingers and hands were bloody from scratches and shrapnel. Still, she clawed at the ground to force herself to her knees and for one sickening moment, she couldn't feel her legs. Vomit rose up from her stomach as she thought about the harsh impact of her back against the cot, had she broken it? Had she severed her spinal cord? Was she paralyzed?

Doctor Holmes crawled through a haze of smoke and he grasped her hands. "Doc," she moaned, her throat raw and aching.

"Come on, Sadie," he said and got to his feet, holding her beneath her arms. "Up we go."

"Doc, my back," she moaned but then her feet touched the earth and she found she could stand. Her entire body was bruised, bleeding, and she realized she couldn't feel her legs because the rest of her hurt so badly it was nearly impossible to feel anything.

"Thank God." Doctor Holmes, her mentor and friend swept her into a fierce hug, which she returned.

"What happened?" She yelled, her ears beginning to ring.

But Sadie turned around and didn't need an explanation. Half the tent was gone, nothing more than a smoldering wreck of charred canvas, metal, and flesh. The smell overpowered the smoke and she held her bloodied hand to her nose and mouth, hoping to quell her rebellious stomach. The portion of the tent that still miraculously stood was strewn with the damage and debris. Sadie looked down at the upturned cot nearest to her and found a severed arm hanging over the edge. A few feet away an unharmed patient was dragging another man away from the blast zone who sobbed as he stared down at the bleeding, pulsing stumps where his legs had been a mere minute ago.

Doctor Holmes let go of Sadie. "Can you work?" He asked.

She didn't even dignify his answer and she climbed over the cot to reach the two men, reaching for the cleanest blanket she could see as she went. Sadie dropped to her screaming knees and pulled her blunt tip scissors from one of pockets and cut into the blanket before ripping it in half.

"Help me," she said to the unharmed patient. Together, they began to wrap the stumps, while the poor victim howled. A wave of personnel came crawling out of the woodwork trying to help as best as they could. Sadie let two stricken technicians help the amputee away and she started picking through the wreckage, upending a cot to find two men.

She knelt down once more, checking the pulse of the first man, until his head lolled to the side. Sadie turned away, pinching her eyes shut at the sight of his skull, completely caved in on one side. Shaking fingers touched her face and she started, turning to see the other man reaching for her. He smeared blood across her cheek and she rotated her body to him.

"I need a doctor," he rasped returning his hand to his abdomen. Sadie swallowed her tears and reached out to help him as his hands slipped over his slick skin, torn open by the blast to reveal his internal organs. "I need, I need," he tried to say and Sadie shook her head.

Unbidden to her, tears sprang at the corners of her eyes. "Don't talk," she said softly. "You're going to be fine," she lied. "You're going to be just fine."

But he wasn't going to be fine, Sadie knew this as she helped him try to keep his intestines from spilling onto the ground. Though his whole body trembled, the soldier didn't appear to be in pain, a sign that his body was shutting down. "I don't wanna die," he said, his own tears sliding from the corners of his eyes. "Mama, I don't wanna die."

Sadie choked on a sob and she nodded, grasping one of his hands and squeezing it tight. "I'm here," she promised. "I'm not leaving you."

The soldier trembled only seconds longer before he stilled and Sadie watched the light leave his eyes. His hand slipped out of hers, falling limp to the ground. Raising her arm, she stifled her cries into the inside of her elbow before a familiar voice shrieked her name.

"SADIE!" Evelyn, perfectly undamaged was barreling towards her. Sadie rose to her feet, hands covered in blood but Evelyn didn't care in the least as she flung her arms around Sadie.

Sadie's entire body protested, but she hugged Evelyn back, too relieved to see her best friend alive to care about the pain. "I thought, the blast and you and Doc Holmes," she babbled and grabbed a shred of pillow case and handed it to Sadie so she could wipe of her hands. Tracks from Evelyn's tears cut through the dirt on her face and she clutched Sadie's hands, visibly shaking. "I don't know where Betty is, everyone's scattered and I don't know what to do!"

Evelyn's knees trembled and Sadie tightened her hold, hoping to keep her friend upright. Before Sadie's eyes, Evelyn threatened to fall to pieces and it was the last thing either of them needed. All around them, Sadie could see similar breakdowns, a technician she didn't know was curled up on the ground hands over his head, rocking compulsively. Evelyn continued to babble and the final threads of Sadie's patients snapped.

"Evelyn, get yourself together!" She roared. Evelyn started, as though remembering they were in the middle of a warzone. "Where are we needed?" Sadie shouted over the din.

"Everywhere," she shouted, wide-eyed at Sadie's sudden authoritative turn.

"Where are the ambulances and runners?" By now two or three other staff members straggled towards her, including Ruthie who was sporting a nasty cut on her forehead.

"Coming in now!" One of their radiomen said from Sadie's side.

Slowly Sadie looked at the handful of her friends and co-workers and drew in a deep breath and then four more, remembering everything her father ever taught her. She was in control or her body and she could control this situation. "Alright, well we're not changing how we handle things now! Begin triaging the wounded! Get every able-bodied patient to help as much as they can. Get critical patients on the ambulances first and treat as quickly as you can. Someone check in on the surgeons, move any patient requiring emergency surgery to the surgical tent and triage based on need!" Her orders rang over the din, but the planes had gone for now.

"What if the planes come back?" Ruthie asked, naked terror in her eyes.

Drawing in a deep breath, Sadie fought back against the screaming pain in her back. "Let's pray they don't," said Evelyn, her confidence restored. The group dispersed, running into the action just as they'd been trained. Evelyn gave Sadie a meaningful look. "Thanks for the pep talk," she said.

Sadie case one pitiful glance back at the dead soldier before yelling for nearby technicians to take care of him and his companion. Together, Sadie and Evelyn began moving from patient to patient, tagging dead soldiers and doing what they could for injured men before helping move them to ambulances. As the minutes wore on, Sadie's body eventually became numb as did her senses every time she encountered fresh carnage from the blast.

X X X

Bucky felt restless. He'd been this way since he returned to the front line several days earlier. An ache persisted in his side, even though he was healing quite nicely. In addition to the constant, mild pain, Bucky hadn't been able to sit still. Fidgety and anxious, Bucky couldn't quite put his finger on why he'd been so unsettled. Sure, he'd experienced his fair share of small annoyances in the past week. Bucky couldn't get comfortable with his wound still hurting, he resented Lieutenant McAllister pulling him back onto the line so quickly, and he was especially annoyed that he hadn't even been able to say goodbye to Sadie, but even all of this together wasn't enough to explain his anxiety.

The mere fact that he was anxious made things immensely worse. Bucky was not an uptight man. Throughout his childhood, adolescence, and adulthood he'd been the picture of relaxation compared to Steve's uptight and morally rigid demeanor. Bucky did not enjoy being on edge, jumping at the smallest of sounds and imagining threats that weren't there. He particularly hated the constant fear that something much worse was going to happen, something devastating and out of his control. The sense of foreboding was unbearable, grating at his every last nerve.

Even now, as he rest his back against the large trunk of a felled tree, he tapped one of his booted feet against the air. Frank O'Connell sat on his left while Dum Dum Dugan reclined on his right. F Company was holding their part of the line just outside a small town that Bucky couldn't have named if his life depended on it. There had been too many small towns and villages already.

Doug Lovitz was basking in his shallow foxhole, cigarette dangling from his lips. "Jesus, Bucky would you hold still? Seven fucking days I've had to put up with you bouncing around like a damn yo-yo."

Bucky frowned, but stopped moving his foot. Immediately his fingers twitched, begging to drum against his stomach where they lay. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"What's gotten into you?" Dum Dum asked, casting a sideways glance to Bucky.

Bucky rubbed a hand over his face, his skin scratching over the coat of stubble he'd been sporting for days now. The words wouldn't come to him. There was no way for him to explain that he felt anxious and restless without sounding like a wimp. The truth was, all of the men were anxious, all of them were restless, all of them felt the same fear. Bucky was no different, he just felt more than he usually did. "I'm fine," he lied.

Dum Dum snorted in unattractive laughter. "Yeah, sure you are," he said sarcastically. "That explains why you've been all sunshine and daisies leaving the hospital."

Bucky threw a warning glare towards Dum Dum, who remained entirely unruffled. "Maybe all that rest and relaxation got to your head, Buck," said O'Connell innocently.

"Or the nurses," said John Nixon as he trudged back from the makeshift latrine, shoving his shirt back into his trousers. He flopped down into Lovitz's foxhole and held out a hand, wiggling his fingers for a smoke which Lovitz begrudgingly gave up.

"Army nurses," said Lovitz fondly. "Did you get lucky and get a pretty one?"

Bucky and Dum Dum rolled their eyes. "Are looks all you ever think about?" Dum Dum asked, kicking a small cloud of dirt and dust over to Lovitz who held up his arm to block it.

"Well what's the point of getting wounded if the nurses aren't lookers?" Lovitz argued from around his cigarette.

John Nixon nodded in agreement. "Like the nurse on the _Victoria_ that treated my ankle. Talk about good-looking, I could have listened to that southern accent all day and night," he said and let out a low whistle. Bucky's hackles rose at the very mere insinuation. Dum Dum coughed hard, covering what Bucky suspected was laughter.

"She was brunette, right?" Dum Dum asked far too innocently.

Nixon snapped his fingers before pointing to Dum Dum with a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Yeah, legs for days, too. Isn't that right, Bucky? You helped carry me up there!"

Both O'Connell and Lovitz listened raptly and turned to stare at Bucky who would rather have run into enemy fire than answer the question. God, where was Steve when Bucky needed him? "Yeah," he said painfully. Dum Dum dug a not-so-discreet elbow into Bucky's side and for a second, Bucky contemplated punching his friend in the jaw.

"What was her name? Started with an R, I thought," mused Nixon.

"Yeah, Bucky," said Dum Dum, thoroughly enjoying his friend's mortification. "You're good with names, aren't you?"

"It's Nurse Reid," answered Bucky through gritted teeth, though none of his friends save Dum Dum noticed.

"Ah, yes, lovely Nurse Reid. You happen to bump into her at the hospital?"

"As a matter of fact, he did," said Dum Dum, jumping in to further along Bucky's misery. Bucky started to look around desperate for a fast exist. For the first time ever he actively wished a mortar would go off, just close enough to put them on alert and force the end of this painful exercise in his humiliation. "Nurse Reid stitched you up, didn't she?"

"She did," said Bucky slowly. Unbidden to him, Bucky's mind drifted to those few minutes alone he'd shared with Sadie. For several nights in a row he'd fallen asleep with the memory of her hands ghosting over his bare skin, touching him clinically and carefully. Bucky still felt the gentle press of her fingertips and the calluses she'd picked up from her job. Each time she'd touched him, his nerves went haywire, practically crying out for more. Even now, his skin felt cold in the absence of her touch, warm and healing. "She did an excellent job, too," he added as an afterthought.

Lovitz let out a low whistle. "What I wouldn't give to have some gorgeous nurse's hands all over me," he muttered.

A growl rose up into Bucky's throat. "It wasn't like that," he said in a tired voice, hoping to throw his friends off the subject by expressing his boredom with the subject.

"I'm sure it wasn't," said Lovitz with a roguish wink.

"All right, all right, leave it alone Dougie," said Nixon, who finally read Bucky's face and mood.

Lovitz wasn't what Bucky would describe as a smart guy, but even he read the signs and the words tumbled out of his mouth before he thought better of it. "What, are you sweet on her or something?"

Bucky's frustrated silence was answer enough. Lovitz, O'Connell, and Nixon all started laughing and with no regard to Bucky's evident displeasure, began poking fun at him. Dum Dum thankfully stayed out of the fray and had the good grace to look mildly guilty. "Sorry," he said sheepishly through his grin.

"You just had to egg them on, didn't you?" Bucky snapped.

Dum Dum made up for his transgression by telling the rest of them to shut up and the group had only been in awkward silence for a moment before Lieutenant McAllister appeared. "Sergeant Barnes, there you are," he said crouching down. Turning his gaze to Dum Dum he nodded. "Sergeant Dugan, you should check in with Lieutenant Forrester. We're moving out in the morning."

Everyone sat up higher at the news. "Where to, Sir?" Bucky asked.

A grin lit up McAllister's face. "We're being taken off the front line."

No sentence was ever sweeter to Bucky and his men. "That's great news," said Bucky, whole body slumping in relief.

"Where're we headed Lieutenant?" Lovitz asked.

"Base camp on the beachhead to resupply and then on a transport. Apparently the 107th is going north above the main lines of resistance to take out a German division just south of the Austrian border." Dum Dum let out a low whistle.

"Must be some division if the army's moving the whole 107th."

McAllister nodded in agreement. "But we'll get a few days' rest anyway," he said. "Get your rifle squads together and spread the word. We move out at first light."

McAllister got up to leave but was sharply cut off when his radio man came dashing through the small clearing. He crouched low, panting. "Hanover, what is it?" Lieutenant McAllister asked.

Hanover stumbled over his words at first. "We just got word, German planes coming from the north."

"Coming here?" Asked McAllister, whole body becoming alert.

Hanover shook his head breathless. "They're already moving out. We've been ordered to keep all wounded at the aid stations."

McAllister's brow furrowed. "What? Why?"

"Sir, they bombed the 80th Field Hospital."

Bucky's lungs nearly imploded as all the air rushed out of his chest. Next to him Dum Dum lurched forward as well as O'Connell and Lovitz. "Then we've got to go give them support. Take our mortars and anti-tank guns and help!" Dum Dum urged.

"Orders are to hold the line," said Hanover, looking positively sick.

The other shoe had dropped. Bucky remained perfectly still while a succession of horrific images and scenarios whizzed through his brain, each one worse than the last. How bad was the damage? Had anyone been hurt? Were there casualties? Was Sadie alright?

Lieutenant McAllister gripped Hanover's shoulder, looking grave. "How bad is the damage?" He asked, voicing the question everyone else was thinking.

Hanover swallowed hard. "Nobody knows yet, sir."

Dum Dum leaned over. "I'm sure everyone's okay," he said in a voice so low only Bucky could her him.

Bucky sat in stunned silence, no longer restless. The foreboding in the pit of his stomach faded into outright dread. All of his anxiety was replaced by outrage. Outrage that anyone would bomb a hospital. Outrage that Sadie was caught in the crosshairs of a war that nobody asked for. Outrage that there was nothing he could to but sit and endure the long night ahead.

X X X

The first rays of the dawn broke as Sadie shut the doors of an ambulance, banging on the back window to send it off. Blinking into the distance, Sadie relished in the cool breeze that blew across her face, unsettling a few few tendrils of her dark hair. The skin of her knuckles cracked and stung as she hastily brushed them away behind her ears. She'd lost her helmet during the initial bombing and hadn't bothered to find another in the blast's chaotic wake. Not that she'd have much luck, one of the hospital's main supply tents took a direct hit, wasting their extra supply of uniforms, bed sheets, cots, and killing three staff members.

"Nurse Reid?" Sadie turned her head to see Peggy approaching her. For once, Peggy looked exactly like all the other women at camp. Makeup free and covered in dirt and dust, Peggy could have passed for a nurse considering the blood splatters on her uniform. As soon as the SSR had sorted away their small camp, Peggy and the small handful of other members came to the hospital's aid, working right next to the nurses, doctors, and technicians. "Are you alright?"

Peggy's question forced a humorless laugh from Sadie's dry lips. "Considering the circumstances," she answered. There was no part of her body that didn't ache, sting, or burn. Each breath she took irritated her smoke-filled lungs, the dry air burning her raw throat. Muscles in Sadie's body that she was previously unaware of fought back with a vengeance every time she so much as lifted her arms. Worst of all was her back and ribs. Searing pain on her left side accompanied each breath she took and Sadie was sure she'd at the very least bruised a few ribs, if not broken them.

Peggy's brown eyes darted all over the visible places of Sadie's body. Absently, Sadie wondered how bad she looked. "Maybe you should rest for a while," said Peggy. "The 107th is coming off the front line and Colonel Phillips has already ordered two companies to assist with cleanup."

Cleanup. Sadie stared wordlessly at the 80th field hospital. The wreckage was spread across the entire encampment. In the growing light, Sadie could see the first ward tent, split wide open. The support poles that remained upright were beginning to teeter precariously, pulled down by the weight of the heavy canvas. Several of the tent's surviving patients were sheltered in the second ward tent and the overflow sat beneath a grove of trees and an emergency open-sided tent, erected hurriedly by Peggy's fellow SSR companions to provide some protection from the elements.

From a distance, Sadie could see Betty, two technicians and another nurse, Laurel, milling through the rows of men. Without the second supply tent there were no additional cots and while some men were fortunate enough to lay on blankets or jackets, most of them lay directly on the ground. Betty knelt over one of her patients, peeling back thick bandages to check a non-serious wound. All of the remaining patients were on the lower tier of critical.

"Betty and the others need extra hands," said Sadie. "The ambulances will be back and half the men still aren't ready to go."

Peggy's hand curled around Sadie's wrist, irritating the a bruise that was already forming on the topside. "Sadie, you need to see a doctor. Evelyn told me you were in the first ward tent."

Sadie recoiled at the thought. She could still feel the heat of the fire on her face and smell the smoke and burning flesh. "All of the doctors are in surgery," she said, her voice monotonous. "I'll be fine."

Evelyn jogged over from where she'd finished sending off the last ambulance. Her red hair was an absolute mess of frizz and she looked like death warmed over. Exhaustion seemed to weigh down her steps, mirroring how Sadie felt inside. "I can't believe you're still upright," said Evelyn, taking one look at Sadie.

Sadie shrugged, wishing her friends would stop treating her like a porcelain doll. "I'll rest when the patients are gone and when the doctors rest," she answered.

Her words echoed the sentiment of all the nurses in the 80th. Before leaving for war, Sadie heard all kinds of criticisms of bringing nurses to the front lines. Women weren't made for war, the blood and gore would offend their feminine sensibilities. Many men and women believed that nurses were too delicate for the hard lifestyle, sleeping in foxholes, dealing with limited resources, and tramping through warzones with nothing more than what they could carry on their backs. But Sadie found in her fellow nurses a resilience that couldn't be manufactured. In their first weeks in Sicily everyone who met the nurses of the 80th marveled at their unending patience, resourcefulness, and determination. They handled the realities of war better than many of the technicians and Sadie had yet to see a nurse sit down and give up during their long night of terror.

"Alright, just be careful," said Evelyn gently. "It doesn't take a genius to see you're favoring your right side and you can't breathe without wincing."

Sadie scowled. "I'm fine," she persisted. "You try having an exam table fall on your left side and see if it doesn't hurt."

Evelyn sighed but chose not to argue with Sadie. "We should go help Betty get the men ready for evacuation. They're next in line."

"Peggy, do you need to return to your CO? Or do you have time to help?" Asked Sadie. "I could use an extra pair of hands," she added relenting to Evelyn's warning.

"I'm all yours," said Peggy bracingly and together the three women started towards the open tent and trees. The daylight spilled through the trees and Betty straightened to listen as a single plane rumbled through the sky. Time slowed to a crawl. Sadie, Peggy, and Evelyn all stopped and ducked as the plane came screaming over the hospital.

Sadie never saw the bomb drop. Everything happened in a split second and in slow motion at once. The impact hit so hard that flecks of branches peppered the top of Sadie's head just as flames shot up through the tree and the open canvas tent blew apart. It was a direct hit, so powerful it blew a nearby jeep onto its side and decimated everything in its wake.

A scream ripped out of Sadie's throat. "BETTY!"

Evelyn drug Sadie to the ground as she collapsed. "NO!" Evelyn shrieked hysterically. She clawed and struggled against Sadie's hold, fighting her with everything she had.

Sadie held on, too stunned to react. Peggy had her arm around Sadie, gripping the shoulder of her torn uniform with an iron grip. The smoke and dust began to clear from the bomb and a sickening truth settled into the pit of Sadie's stomach. Pieces of metal, fabric, tree, flesh, and bone were strewn as close as a few feet away from her. A high pitched ringing blocked out the hearing in both of her ears as she fell back onto her ankles, arms clamped around Evelyn who had started to sob uncontrollably, still screaming Betty's name.

Evelyn screamed but Sadie heard nothing, she felt nothing. She just sat in shock and disbelief, though there was no circumventing the truth. One second Betty Carnahan, beautiful, brazen and altogether perfect Betty had been there, leaning over a patient. The next she was gone, vaporized by the force of the blast that left nothing more than a smoldering, charred hole in the ground.

 **A/N: So…I'm just going to leave this here and maybe hide…**

 **Next chapter picks up where we leave off-ish.**

 **Let me know what you think! What things you want to throw at me through your computer screens, predictions, questions etc…I'm sorry I didn't PM reviewers after last chapter, the last few weeks have been utter insanity! Anyway leave some love! – Much love, Kappa.**


	10. Bruises and Cocktail Hours

**A/N: Hello all! So I'm giving you the gift of an insanely long chapter and the kickoff point of the Azzano arc, which should span 6-7 chapters (c'mon, you guys didn't think I was going to do Azzano in two or three, did you?) We're starting to converge with the events of the film! Also – there's a small snippet in this chapter that I pulled almost directly from** _ **Band of Brothers**_ **, which has influenced this story a great deal. Those of you who have seen the show or read the book may recognize it, and I included it because I cried both when I read and watched the moment.**

 **I regret to inform that I'm going to be MIA over the next week or so, which means an update will definitely be delayed – I'm in my best friend's wedding on Saturday which means lots of chaos, but also three of my favorite things: high heels, spring dresses, and champagne!**

 **Also, holy crap you guys are AMAZING! I love, love, love all of your reviews, favorites, and follows. The response I have gotten for this story is above and beyond anything I ever expected! Seriously, there are not enough thanks in the world for all of the love. Special thanks to Mopargirl1 for her technical knowledge.**

 **The usual language warnings apply along with a warning for mild fluff – what's that? Confused expressions and cries of disbelief? Kappa knows how to write fluff? After all the doom and gloom? Say it isn't so!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Captain America. I really, really, really wish I did.**

 **Chapter 10 – Bruises and Cocktail Hours**

"Come see me tomorrow and I'll change these bandages out," said Sadie as she carefully wrapped a length of white bandage around Earnest Kemper's hand. The technician was the picture of stillness as he sat with his elbow resting on a crate, arm straight up and hand open. Already Sadie had covered the length of gauze covering the nasty gash on his forearm that she'd cleaned and treated. "Be sure to keep it clean and let it breathe."

Earnest nodded. "Just like you taught me," he said.

Sadie's eyes snapped up from his wrist, her hand hovering in midair where she'd just wrapped the bandage over the webbing between his index finger and thumb. The white bandage looked even more stark next to Earnest's torn and filthy uniform and against Sadie's own dirty skin. Her hand shook just slightly, but Sadie felt the tremor vibrate up her arm and deep into her chest, aching and burning as it went.

"Nurse Reid? Are you alright?" Earnest asked, trying to restore her attention.

"I'm fine," said Sadie stiffly. "And yes, just like I taught you. Good memory," she said but didn't accompany her compliment with her usual smile. Finding her concentration again, Sadie finished wrapping the bandage and tied it off. Earnest thanked her for her help and departed, leaving her kneeling on the ground next to the crate, alone beneath the shade of one of the few undamaged trees.

Sadie's hands fell into her lap, each finger rigid as though the tendons would snap at any given second. Dropping her head forward, she rolled out her neck and took a tiny bit of satisfaction as it popped and cracked in the right places. Even that little adjustment did wonders for her and she rolled it again until she felt just a fraction looser. Pushing her shoulders back in a circular motion, she felt the muscles groan unhappily, rippling and settling back into place.

Opening her eyes, Sadie examined her hands, scowling at the side of the small nicks and cuts marring her previously undamaged skin. A fine layer of dirt and grit had settled on every available inch of her skin, obscuring the bruises on her left arm that she already felt. Although she'd rolled up the sleeves on her shirt, there was a large tear in the right elbow and several holes peppered through the shoulder on the left side. The knees in her field trousers were ripped, revealing scraped skin embedded with even more grit. An hour long shower was in order, and though Sadie knew the hot water would soothe her exterior wounds, it wouldn't do a damn thing for the burning in her chest or the excruciating pain she felt with every breath she took.

Rationally speaking, Sadie knew the pain came from what she was certain were a few bruised ribs on her left side and the gallons of smoke she'd inhaled after the explosion in the first ward tent. But the whole rest of her knew that the real root of her worst pain came from the still-smoldering remains of the explosion that killed Betty just two hours earlier. It was the same sort of throbbing, aching agony that Sadie felt when her father died; Betty's all-too recent death had put a fresh new hole in her already peppered heart, leaving raw edges that stung as though an invisible force kept poking her with a thousand tiny needles. Sadie rubbed her palm over her breastbone, wishing that she could feel anything else but the deep sorrow she thought she'd buried in the year and a half since her father's death.

Back then, Sadie had been determined to force her way through the grief. She'd convinced herself she was too driven and rational and focused to let herself fall apart. Succumbing to the throes of grief was for weaker women who had nothing else to live for, she'd told herself stubbornly even on the nights when she'd woken up in tears. Watching her mother's slow descent into a permanent numb state hadn't helped matters and by the time Sadie had returned to school from the funeral and a cheerless Christmas, she'd been as determined as ever to put the worst behind her and make a difference. So she'd joined the Army Nursing Corps and fought her way through her grief so she could do something that would make her later father proud of her.

A fat load of good that had done, thought Sadie bitterly. It seemed for every life she helped save there were two more deaths behind it and now she had to add Betty's name to that list. Just thinking it caused another spasm in Sadie's heart, tugging at her exposed and raw nerves.

"Stop it," she said to herself firmly.

Falling to pieces now wouldn't help anyone. Death was a fact of war. She'd known that when she volunteered and so had Betty. Sadie clenched her hands into tight fists, pulling at her dry and cracked skin. The 80th had taken a hit but it wasn't out for the count, she reminded herself and got to her feet, sore and stiff joints creaking as she did. There were other nurses that needed direction, doctors that couldn't function with the nurses, and the patients wouldn't stop coming in just because the 80th was now understaffed. People died during the war. If it hadn't been Betty then it could have been Evelyn or Ruthie or Doc Holmes or Bucky. The world couldn't stop turning just because she wanted it to.

Sadie gathered up the few supplies she'd been carrying around with her and set off towards the nurses encampment. The hospital had been ordered to dismantle in preparation to move off the line with the rest of the 107th. Already G Company had stopped to help with cleanup and F Company would be arriving within the next half hour with an extra convoy to help evacuate the hospital staff back to the main basecamp just off the beachhead where the 107th had landed only weeks earlier. A small, distant part of Sadie recognized that Bucky was in F Company, as was Lieutenant McAllister, Sergeant Dugan and the man she'd treated on the _Queen Victoria_. Normally, Sadie would have looked forward to seeing Bucky again, but just now she couldn't bring herself to feel anything.

But, if Sadie thought her initial grief was bad, it was nothing compared to Evelyn who hadn't stopped crying. Ruthie Lafferty and Doctor Holmes had run at break neck speed towards the bombing site just seconds after it had happened to recover and treat the wounded. A few other nurses had gone with them, but Sadie hadn't been able to get to her feet because Evelyn had pulled her down and wouldn't let go. Sadie hadn't minded, she held onto Evelyn just as tightly, guiding her friend's face into her shoulder. Evelyn sobbed, unrestrained while Peggy sat with them on the hard ground, stroking Evelyn's back with one hand and clutching Sadie's with the other.

With all of the remaining tents dismantled, Sadie could see across the field to where Evelyn sat with Doctor Holmes while he performed a cursory examination on her. Sadie picked her way across the field to them.

"Nurse Reid," said Doctor Holmes, as she drew within earshot. "You need to be examined."

Sadie thought of the furious ache in her back from where the she'd been thrown into a cot. "I will once we're back at base camp," she said. "I should get my things together."

Evelyn sniffed and hastily wiped the tears from beneath her eyes. "Someone needs to get," but her throat seemed to close over the words. A lump formed in Sadie's own throat as she put together the end of Evelyn's sentence.

"Betty and I were sharing a tent. I'll get her things."

Evelyn gave another water shudder. Doc Holmes patted her shoulder before he dug into one of his pockets. He opened his palm to reveal a set of bent dog tags and a gold cross covered in soot, it was partially fused to a length of broken gold chain. Sadie instantly recognized the cross as belonging to Betty and her heart stumbled over a few beats.

"This was all we recovered," he said in a low, sad voice. Betty had been a favorite of not only her fellow nurses, but the doctors as well. Her infectious brand of humor tended to lift the spirits of patients and staff alike.

Just looking at the cross, Sadie thought she might be sick. Evelyn turned her ashen face away, pressing one of her hands over her eyes to hide her renewed tears. Hot saltwater stung at the corners of Sadie's eyes, but she fought the urge to cry and instead took the cross from his palm.

"I'll send it home to her mother," said Sadie and her voice broke over the words. "I'm sure that's what Betty would want."

Unable to bear Evelyn's tears any longer, Sadie walked away towards the women's camp to get her things. A few drops of blood seeped out of her closed fist, where she'd clutched the cross so hard it cut into her hand.

X X X

A gorgeous morning had unfolded over the men of the 107th when they finally got out of their position, made the short march to the waiting troop convoys, and got underway. The sunrise had taken it's time, something that Bucky saw as a personal offense, though knew he was being stupid. Time had a funny way of speeding up and slowing down during the 107th's campaign, the changing speeds often coincided with oncoming battle. But Bucky would be damned if the last night hadn't been the longest of the war so far.

Every man in his rifle squad and platoon, hell, even the whole of F Company felt the minutes slow to a crawl. It seemed to the unanimous consensus that the men would gladly had taken the shellacking that the 80th had apparently received, just to spare the wounded men and staff from the horror. The snippets of conversation Bucky heard during the course of the long night echoed the same furious sentiments. What kind of monsters would bomb a hospital? Were the Nazis blind? Surely they could see the enormous red crosses painted on the tops of each canvas tent! Men lamented that their fellow wounded comrades were doomed to be targets once more and even worse the poor doctors and nurses who hadn't lifted an adversarial finger all war long.

F Company as a whole remained tense, but perhaps none more so than Bucky, try as he might to hide it. More than half a dozen times in the night he'd convinced himself to steal a jeep, get his squad together and drive out to the hospital. Each time, he talked himself down based on two almost certain consequences. First, he'd likely be court-martialed into oblivion, if not dishonorably discharged altogether. Second, if he wasn't discharged or shot for disobeying orders, then Sadie Reid would probably do the job and shoot him herself. In the weeks he'd known her, Bucky had come to understand that Sadie took her work very seriously and would not respond kindly to some rash attempt at rescuing her.

And so, Bucky forced himself to stay in his foxhole, left with nothing but the litany of terrible scenarios racing through his mind. Each one worse than the last, Bucky dwelled all night on whether Sadie had been injured or worse, killed. Images of her missing her limbs or ending up badly burned tortured him through the night. Would she come out unscathed? Sadie was extremely smart and resourceful, that much Bucky knew; but there was very little even Sadie could do in the face of an aerial attack. Bucky also knew she and the rest of the nurses were just devoted and insane enough to run headlong into the danger. The duty to their patients came above all other loyalties or emotions, and Bucky firmly believed that Sadie, along with Evelyn and Betty hadn't even flinched at working through the constant terror.

There were many men Bucky knew in his own regiment that wouldn't have done that.

And so, the hours drug on and Bucky watched the sky grow steadily lighter until the first rays of morning sun crept through the tree line they'd dug into. As he marched with his squad to the convoys he had to continually talk himself off a thousand ledges. If the situation weren't so dire, Bucky might have laughed at himself, Steve certainly would have. Out of all of the girls Bucky had romanced, none of them had managed to whip him into a mess the way Sadie Reid had. No girl had occupied such a large and apparently permanent space in his head and he'd never even kissed her! But he'd lost count of the number of times he'd thought about it, wondering if she fit as perfectly into his arms as he imagined she would.

Often, Bucky wondered if Sadie would have had such a profound effect on him if they'd met under different circumstances. But every time he dismissed the notion out of hand, because the war had nothing to do with the things he liked the most. When Sadie wasn't around Bucky actively craved her conversation and her witty, if slightly barbed, jokes at his expense. He liked the way her grey eyes alternated between varying mercurial states, revealing her emotions no matter how hard she tried to hide them. There was nothing about her that he didn't want to know and the more Bucky thought about her the worse his affliction got. He was teetering precariously on the edge of falling head right over heels, and the worst part was that he didn't mind the slightest.

The early September breeze rushed past his face, exposed by the open canopy on the convoy. Bucky had settled between Doug Lovitz and Gerald Meyers, the two men uncharacteristically silent. Lovitz kept rolling the gold star of David he carried between his fingers.

"A hospital," he muttered under his breath. "The fuck is wrong with these people? Some things just seem black and white, you know? You don't bomb a godamned hospital. That's one of the rules, right?"

Meyers leaned around Bucky to scowl at Lovitz. "It is a rule, according to the Geneva Convention, at least."

Lovitz's brows furrowed and he shook his head. "Do I look like a professor to you?" He snapped at Meyers.

"The Geneva Convention, idiot," said O'Connell from across their row, his voice barely audible over the rumble of the truck engine. "It's a treaty and one of the rules is that you're not supposed to attack sick and injured troops in the field."

"Oh yeah? Well, tell that to the motherfuckers who bombed our hospital last night," said Lovitz angrily. "Cause I don't think they heard you."

Bucky would have given anything to be anywhere else in that moment. He kept rubbing his thumb over the strap on his rifle, wearing into the rough fabric. It was the smallest outlet he had for his anxiety. The convoys trundled on, but not fast enough for Bucky's taste. He wanted to be at the hospital now so he could see Sadie with his own eyes.

"Has anyone heard how bad it was?" Meyers suddenly asked.

Bucky's stomach twisted into a horrible knot. Lovitz turned to his other side and shouted down the way. "Hey Lieutenant!"

Lieutenant McAllister got up and moved down the row so he could sit next to Lovitz. "What's up, Dougie?"

"Any word on the damage? At the 80th?"

McAllister swallowed hard. Every man in earshot abandoned their conversations to put all of their attention on McAllister. "Yeah," he said at last, though hesitantly. "We heard before we left. The last round of bombers went through at dawn. The last count we received was thirty-four patients injured; forty-seven patients dead; and thirteen hospital staff killed, including two doctors and five nurses."

Lovitz wasn't the only one who swore colorfully at the news. Bucky forced his mouth to remain shut, face contorting. "Jesus Christ, they killed the nurses?"

O'Connell's hollow question hung in the air between the knot of soldiers. "Looks that way," said McAllister heavily. "No names though."

For a split second, Bucky swore that McAllister's eyes flickered to his. "And remaining staff is headed out with us?"

"Yeah," said McAllister. "Their last patients were supposed to go out within the last hour."

McAllister moved back to his place and Bucky forcefully shut out the conversation. Fresh dread settled into the pit of his stomach. _Five nurses dead_. The words kept echoing in his head, loud and clanging. An then the convoys rolled into a open field and Bucky's mouth fell open, along with every other soldier's.

The 80th Field Hospital was mostly taken apart, but was still in shambles. Spires of smoke rose from several dark patches of earth and a few errant flames even continued to burn from the wreckage of crates, cots, and what looked like a very large tent support pole. The smell didn't reach Bucky immediately, but when it did, he clapped his hand over his mouth and nose. The ashy scent of burnt wood and canvas couldn't cover up the smell of burnt flesh. Crews of men from G Company were loading the remains of the hospitals tents into the 80th's remaining trucks, but Bucky could see at least three destroyed vehicles, each one black and twisted. The last of the tents being dismantled were on the far side of the camp, where Bucky couldn't see.

But perhaps the most jarring sight was that of the rows of olive green mounds in the center of the largest undamaged stretch of the field. At first Bucky couldn't quite believe what he was seeing until he watched two men carry a body over to the rows and lay it down so a waiting nurse could cover it with a green wool blanket. Several staff members sat near the recovered belongings of the hospital, some on supply crates and some on the ground but on each face Bucky could see the shock.

His truck stopped. "Leave your gear," said McAllister as they all clamored to get off. "I want men helping with the body recovery and burial. Bucky, take your squad over to help finish taking down those tents, Captain Willis wants us out of here as soon as possible."

Bucky motioned for his squad to follow him while the rest of F Company scattered, fanning out to relieve exhausted hospital workers. His eyes were everywhere at once, desperate for even a glimpse of Sadie. But, she was nowhere to be seen, leaving Bucky to fear she was beneath one of the olive green blankets. His squad drew nearer to the tents and he saw a sign hammered into the ground reading "Women's camp. Men – announce yourself first!"

The men paused when a redhead appeared from one of the tents. It was Evelyn. Her eyes were red and puffy and widened at the sight of Bucky. She took a shuddering breath and approached him. "Sergeant Barnes, is it?" She asked, her voice trembling over the words.

"Yes ma'am," he replied. "My squad and I were ordered to help take down these tents."

Evelyn nodded. "They're mostly empty, I think. We were just getting our stuff," she said and turned to look over her shoulder where a woman emerged from another tent.

Bucky's heart nearly exploded at the sight of Sadie as she straightened. She stopped dead in her tracks, mouth partially open in soft surprise. The hand holding her bag went slack. It took every ounce of willpower to keep Bucky from striding over to her and sweeping her into his arms where he knew she would be safe. Evelyn hurried to Sadie, instead and grasped one of the four bags that were resting at her feet. Bucky's eyebrows shot up.

"Let me help," said Evelyn in a soft voice.

Sadie brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and shook her head. "I've got it," she started to say but Evelyn took in another shuddering breath and Sadie relinquished her hold.

"I'm not going to lose you, too." Snapped Evelyn in a soft voice. "And if you keep pushing it, you're bound to keel over from exhaustion. Sergeant? Come lend us a hand? The rest of your men are welcome to get to work."

Bucky obeyed Evelyn's summons. "Evie." Sadie had started to protest, but stopped at her friend's fierce glare.

"You know what I think?" Said Evelyn in her persistent wobbly voice. "I bet that Sergeant Barnes can carry all of those bags to the trucks for us, no problem. Can't you, Sarge?"

"No problem," promised Bucky. But his voice died on his lips now that he saw Sadie up close. His face must have betrayed his shock because she immediately recoiled.

"I'm fine," she said in advance of any concerned words he might have had. Her voice was as ragged as she looked. Almost all of her visible skin was covered in dust and dirt, though she had recently splashed her face with water because he could see the paths the rivulets ran down her neck and the hair framing her face was damp. Bucky could see a butterfly bandage covering a nasty cut at her hairline and he could see the beginnings of a large bruise across her left cheek and another forming at the angle of her jaw. Sadie's grey eyes were twin hurricanes, swirling with a dozen different emotions he couldn't read, but he could see the intense sorrow that weighed down her normally straight shoulders.

She looked as though she'd been through hell. "You look the opposite of fine, Sadie."

The words tumbled from Bucky's mouth before he could stop himself. "She needs to see a doctor," said Evelyn staunchly.

Bucky started to pick up the bags, but Sadie grabbed hers from the ground. As she lifted he could see her forearm was covered by a large bandage and her hands were mottled with tiny cuts. Sadie's face wrenched up in pain as she straightened out, an expression she tried to hide by keeping her head down. Now that he was next to her, Bucky could see her wince with every breath she took. "I don't need either of you mothering me. I'm upright, aren't I?"

Without another word, she shouldered her bag and started walking away, a noticeable tilt in her step. Evelyn burst into tears. Bucky watched Sadie in unrestrained shock. He'd been on the receiving end of her barbs before, but she'd never been downright mean.

"What happened?" He asked, doing his best to comfort Evelyn.

"A bomb took out half of Sadie's ward. She was inside when it hit." Bucky's stomach gave an awful lurch. "And then – then. Oh, Sergeant Barnes, Betty died."

And Evelyn dissolved. Bucky paused long enough for O'Connell to come to the rescue before he gathered up what he now knew was Betty's backpack and musette bag, along with Sadie's musette bag. Breaking into a jog, he caught up with Sadie who was moving decidedly slower than usual. He didn't even bother with niceties as he plucked Sadie's backpack off her shoulder and slinging it onto his.

"Buck sergeant," she said, a warning in her voice. "Please don't."

"Don't what?" He asked.

"Don't try and come to the rescue all shining armor and white horse. I don't think I could stand it if you did."

Bucky grasped Sadie's undamaged wrist and brought her to a halt, swinging around to face her. She crossed her arms over her chest, her face hovering somewhere between fury and tears. "Evelyn told me about Betty. Sadie, I'm so sorry," he said. "About Betty and your patients."

Sadie's chest swelled and she blinked hard. But when she turned her face back up to his, she was blank. "Thank you," she said. "But your sympathies can't change anything."

"I'm not trying to change anything or rescue you," Bucky argued. "You've been through a hell of a thing and I just want to help."

"I don't need help," she said coldly, shrinking further and further into herself by the second. "I need to do my job."

Bucky's hands fell from her upper arms. He felt quite stupid, standing before her, laden with four bags and begging for her to let him in. For days he'd thought, just maybe she felt something for him too. He'd tricked himself into believing there was a chance, but as Sadie pulled her things from him, Bucky realized it had just been a dream. Without another word, Sadie walked away, leaving Bucky holding Betty's things, wondering where he'd got it all so terribly wrong.

X X X

The SSR evacuated with the 80th Field Hospital and the 107th to a base camp just off the beachhead north of the Sele River. Destined to stay only long enough to restock supplies and receive replacements, the respite was short, though welcomed. Peggy spent most of it trying to piece together everything of the SSR's that had been scattered in the air raid. They had been incredibly lucky, sustaining only collateral damage during the bombing. The only other good thing that Peggy had identified from the event was the improvement of her opinion of Colonel Phillips. Though was the highest ranking officer in the whole camp, he'd rolled up his shirt sleeves and helped with the wounded just like the rest of the SSR. Peggy walked away with a renewed trust in his leadership, seeing that he cared so much about his men.

She'd stopped to check on Sadie Reid and Evelyn Lewis, too, hoping to provide some comfort for her grieving friends. A crew of replacements had been brought in from Sicily to fill in the gaps in the 80th's staff, and many of the nurses and doctors had been temporarily relieved of duty to rest and heal. The replacements were to go north with the rest of the 80th, and they weren't the only ones. Peggy spent one of her mornings watching the 107th perform marching drills and PT, incorporating their newest batch of replacements as well.

Three days after arriving at base camp, the SS _Susan B. Anthony_ dropped her anchor just off the shore. The liberty class cargo ship had been dispatched to carry the 107th, 80th Field Hospital, field kitchen, supporting staff, and the SSR north up the Western coast of Italy to the coastal town to Sestri. From there an SOE operative was to intercept the SSR with fresh intelligence before the entire party moved eastward, bound for the principality of Azzano Decimo. The painstaking process of loading the vessel took two days, but at long last Peggy stood on the upper deck of the vessel, watching the landing craft as they returned to the shore.

The _Susan B. Anthony_ had started as a cargo vessel before she'd been gutted and turned into a troopship. From her vantage point, Peggy could see the troop trucks, jeeps lining the deck. As she watched several crewmen moving along, checking that each vehicle was securely fastened to the deck, a figure came into view.

"Oh God," said Peggy with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "It's too early for this."

A man strolled along the deck. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of round sunglasses, though the smirk on his face was evident, even from a distance. But his irritating little smile and mustache weren't nearly as shocking as the tan three piece suit he wore with crisp white shirt and dark red tie. He stuck out among the crewmen and soldiers like a sore thumb in a sea of olive drab.

"Agent Carter!" The man said in a rather loud, buoyant voice. "Miss me?"

Peggy crossed her arms over her chest drumming her fingers on one arm. "Mr. Stark, how nice of you to join us."

Howard's grin widened and he withdrew his hands from his trousers pockets spreading his arms wide open. "And miss all this?" He asked.

Several soldiers stopped and watched, slack-jawed as Howard strolled on by. Either he was completely unaware or couldn't have cared less whether people stared or not. "I trust someone showed you to your cabin?"

He came to stand next to her, facing out over the shoreline. Nodding, he held out a hand which Peggy shook. "Well, it's not the double suite with salon and sundeck I requested, but as long as there's turndown service, I think I'll survive."

Peggy shot him a sidelong glare. "We've been sleeping in tents and foxholes since landing in Italy, this ship is paradise for most of us," she remarked dryly. Howard sobered at her words and they watched as a group of soldiers walked by, slowing down at the sight of Howard's suit and Peggy wearing her Class A's.

But, as Peggy expected, Howard couldn't keep his mouth shut for much longer. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards one of the doors that led to the higher decks where the SSR cabins and work rooms were, along with the cabins for the nurses. "You know, coming down here I saw a whole group of women wearing men's uniforms?"

Her lips tugged into a small smirk. "Those would be the nurses with the field hospital."

"Nurses running around in pants, what'll they think of next," he wondered, though he sounded more amused than anything else. On the shore, Peggy could see crews of men loading large supply crates onto trucks. "Beautiful country," remarked Howard.

"Yes, I was particularly impressed by Sicily," she remarked mildly.

"But this is all no good. To really experience Italy you have to tour the Lombardy region. We could drink a little wine, soak up the rays at Lake Como, how about it, doll?"

Peggy found herself somewhere between exasperation and amusement. The corners of her lips threatened a smile, but she kept it at bay. "Perhaps I should remind you that you're here to consult for the SSR on HYRDA. To the best of my understanding that doesn't include shameless flirting and drinking valtellina whilst lazing around."

"Well," said Howard with a cocksure smile. "I'm happy to help you broaden your understanding of my job duties."

Peggy arched an eyebrow, her fingers itching to smack the smirk clean off his face. "Tempting," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "But I'm not interested and I'll thank you not to call me 'doll' again. Now that you're finally on board, perhaps you'd like to get started? I have intelligence briefings for your review and Colonel Phillips would like to meet with you once we're under way."

Without waiting for him, she began walking towards the staircase that led to the SSR's cabins. "Of course, just as long as I have time to change before cocktail hour at five."

X X X

Sadie hissed as a set of cool fingers gently prodded the narrow, brilliant purple bruise that spanned her back. "It's going to hurt for a while, I'm afraid," said Doctor Holmes. "Though it's not spreading, so I can go ahead and rule out any internal bleeding. You can sit up, now," he said and carefully shut the back of the examination gown that Sadie wore, covering up the length of her bare back.

Evelyn took her friend's elbow and helped her back upright. The three of them were in one of the small makeshift exam spaces, created in a smaller cabin using partitions. It wasn't ideal, but served its purpose of giving Sadie privacy while Doctor Holmes followed up on her bruising after his initial examination some days before. Evelyn had been keeping a particularly sharp eagle eye on Sadie, as though she half-expected her friend to collapse at any given second. Now that the initial shock of Evelyn's death had worn off, Sadie had come back to mostly her usual self, tainted by the grief she tried to contain and her guilt at the way she'd treated her friends in the initial hours.

Sadie blinked a few times until the initial dizziness in her head faded. "That's good," she said, sitting up as straight as she could.

Doctor Holmes nodded and then motioned for her to raise her arms, which she did with some difficulty. Even days later, parts of her body were sore that she had no idea could be sore. He ran his palms flat from the sides of her hips, gently moving upward, assessing her pain. As soon as he touched her mid-left side she pulled back, grimacing as she did. "I'm more worried about your ribs," he said clinically. "Your x-rays at the base hospital showed no obvious breaks, but ribs six and seven are definitely bruised."

"So taping them up won't help," she muttered.

The good doctor shook his head and with Evelyn's help, carefully peeled her gown away to take a better look at her left side, while keeping her as covered as possible. "Normally I'd recommend aspirin and ice packs. We'll do the best with what we've got. It's going to take time, I'm afraid. I should have kept you at the base hospital."

Sadie made a face. "I am not going to languish at the base hospital over a few bruised ribs," she retorted. "It's already been almost a week, give me another two and I'll be fine."

Doctor Holmes and Evelyn shared a long-suffering look. "Nurses make the worst patients," Holmes muttered under his breath. "Do I need to remind you how you ended up like this? I'm amazed either of us walked away, much less with minimal injury. I'm telling you right now, Sadie, if you overdo things you're going to do even more damage. And I know you're smart enough to know that."

A flush swirled into Sadie's cheeks. Slightly ashamed, Sadie nodded. "Yes, it's what I'd tell any patient of mine," she said.

"I'm going to speak to your superior. Do you think you can manage to stay out of trouble if I recommend that you oversee training the replacements for the next two weeks?" Doctor Holmes covered her side with her gown again, covering up the rainbow bruise on her side. He seemed more exhausted than usual and Sadie reached out, placing a comforting hand on his forearm.

"That sounds like just the thing I need to get back on my feet."

Doctor Holmes graced her with a rare smile. "Good. Evelyn, why don't you help Sadie get dressed and I'll go speak to your CO. I'll want to take another look in about a week, okay?"

"Sure thing, Doc," said Sadie.

X X X

Sadie walked out of the small exam room, rolling her sleeves up as she went. The crisp, salty air filled her nostrils as she breathed in. She'd never seen the ocean until the summer after her first year in nursing school. Betty's family took all three girls to stay for a week at a beautiful cottage on the coast in South Carolina. Then, it had been a chance for the girls to let off some steam and for Betty to meet Charleston's most eligible bachelors. They'd spent three weeks whiling their days playing in the waves and evenings dressed up at cocktail parties and dances. Sadie remembered the swirls of pastel chiffon and crinoline from the soirees, more extravagant than anything she'd seen in Little Rock society. She could see the gin and tonics clinking around in crystal lowballs and hear the lively music from twelve piece bands.

More than that, Sadie remembered the sweet, salty air filling her lungs and the coarse sand between her toes. In the mornings she and Betty would walk along the beach while Evelyn still slept, talking about the string of men Betty's mother introduced them to and making jokes about all of their pretentious qualities. Sadie loved to walk barefoot, feeling the rush of saltwater against her bare ankles and relishing the way her feet sank into the sand. She liked how their footprints disappeared behind them, washed away into anonymity. The sun would crest over the blue horizon as they'd giggle about Mister Connor Cunningham the Fourth's too-tight bowtie. Even now, Sadie could see Betty throwing her head back in laughter, sending sprays of blonde curls cascading down her shoulders.

Back then their lives had revolved around school and Betty's meddling, disapproving mother. Sadie had really thought they could take on the world while they walked the shoreline, making bold promises to become the best nurses in existence and never settle for a comfortable life in a tepid marriage. To them a dispassionate marriage and a life bound to the home seemed worse than death.

It turned out, the joke had been on them all along because Sadie would have happily seen her friend in nearly any situation, if only to see her alive. It felt like a punch to the gut, just knowing that Sadie would never see Betty's mischievous smile or the way she liked to waggle her eyebrows humorously behind her mother's back. Suddenly at a loss for air, Sadie pressed a palm flat over her aching chest. Sucking in a breath, she fought her wince as her ribs violently protested the deep motion. A grimace pulled at her mouth and she turned away from the small hospital ward, walking stiffly down the length of the upper deck to get a better view of the ship.

Sadie knew if Betty were there she would have likely pestered until she agreed to go hunt down Peggy just to get a glimpse of Howard Stark. It all seemed so silly now, she thought sadly. At length, Sadie found a quiet place on the railing and looked out over the open deck of the ship. Many men of the 107th were topside, basking in the sun and drinking up the pleasant weather. This trip was something of a godsend to the men, they'd been in combat conditions for nearly two months, sleeping outside in rough conditions and being off the front line even for a few days made all the difference in the world.

She watched a group of men engaged in a game of poker while a few others slept nearby. A few men walked along the deck in conversation, but for the most part it was still and wonderfully quiet. There was a second deck below Sadie's that jutted further out. From what she could see, it was mostly empty, save a few men. One of those men cut a familiar profile and Sadie's stomach turned itself in a knot.

Sergeant Barnes stood with his back against the railing, immersed in a letter. The sea breeze blew his chestnut hair askew, sending the strands across his forehead. Sadie couldn't see them from so far away, but she knew the exact hue of his blue eyes and the shape of his mouth. He stood with a casual elegance that couldn't be manufactured, as though he'd been born to do things like lean against railings in a mildly disheveled uniform. He smiled at something he read and a fresh crop of guilt sprang up in Sadie's stomach.

To say she'd been cold towards Bucky the last time she'd seen him was something of an understatement. In fact, Sadie had been down right frigid on a level of ice queen proportions. Bucky had offered her his support and comfort and Sadie, in her state of numb shock, rebuffed him entirely. They were friends and yet, Sadie had treated him with all the warmth of an Arctic blizzard. Seeing him now only intensified her guilt, and before Sadie's brain could catch up to her body, her feet were moving.

She made her way to the staircase leading down to the lower deck. The deck was sparsely populated, which suited Sadie perfectly fine. Bucky remained in the same place, one ankle crossed over the other, lower back firmly planted against the metal rail. Sadie's eyes drank in his profile, from his firm chest leading down to his tapered waist. From her vantage point, she admired the strong angle of his jaw that curved around to a slightly stubborn chin. The tips of her fingers twitched and Sadie started at the longing she felt to brush the hair from his forehead and trace his jaw, running down to the hollow of his throat. Sadie knew Bucky was a handsome man, but it wasn't until now that she realized what all the big fuss was about. Bucky turned one of the pages of his letter over, a smile toying at his mouth, and Sadie's knees gave just a little.

Sadie stopped walking, firmly telling herself that she'd come down to apologize to Bucky for her brush-off and ensure that their friendship remained intact. She had not come down to ogle at his broad shoulders and wonder what it would be like to kiss him. Warmth pooled across her upper chest and down the back of her neck. Since when had kissing entered the equation?

But, the answer to that question would have to wait as he looked up, blue eyes finding her almost immediately. Sadie stood, cemented to the metal floor. Bucky's brows snapped together in surprise. "I can go, I'd hate to get in the way of your job," he drawled at length.

Ouch, thought Sadie as a flush stained her cheeks faint pink. "Okay," she said slowly. "I deserved that. Though a hello would have sufficed."

Bucky's defensive demeanor faded away and he appeared slightly mollified as Sadie drew closer to him. "Hello, Sadie," he said, sarcasm still clinging to the edges of his voice.

Sadie wanted to crack a smile at his formal response, but didn't have one left in her to give. For a while they stood in silence, Bucky pretended to read his letter and Sadie wondered if she could actually cut the tension with the blunt-tip scissors in one of her pockets. She found herself looking at the deck of the ship, thinking back to the _Queen Victoria_. The journey form New York seemed like a another lifetime. Back then Sadie thought that Bucky was just another cocky non-com looking for any chance to flirt with a pretty nurse. She wondered, with a mild sinking feeling, what he must have thought of her.

"You're not seasick this time around," she said bracingly. "The last time we were on a boat together I wasn't sure you were going to make it to dry land."

Bucky dropped his head to hide his small, but rather pleased grin. "It helps that we're not sailing through an Atlantic storm," he noted dryly.

At that moment Sadie wished they really were sailing through a storm. Perhaps then Bucky and she would have something to discuss. As it was, they remained in tepid silence, Sadie staring over the bow of the ship to the crystal blue waters and Bucky continuing to peruse his letter. Sadie knew it would be up to her to spur the conversation along and to get out her apology; but every time she thought of fresh words to say it all sounded insincere. The warmth from the sun bathed her cheeks and she closed her eyes, imagining that they were anywhere else.

A scene formed in Sadie's mind of the Charleston waves and the glorious sunrise. She walked along the shoreline dressed in a pair of high-waisted shorts and a light sweater, holding her t-strap sandals in one hand. Instead of Betty, she could see Bucky walking with her, the legs of his trousers rolled up over his shins and the top few buttons of his white linen shirt undone. He held her hand as they walked in perfectly content silence. Sadie's lips parted in soft surprise at how lovely the whole idea seemed to her. She wasn't sure when her feelings had changed, but she supposed it didn't really matter. Upon opening her eyes, she found Bucky trying not to watch her out of the corner of his eye.

"I owe you an apology," she said at last, still gazing at the sea.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "You don't owe me anything, Sadie," he said somewhat stiffly.

Sadie looked at him and wished that his eyes weren't quite so blue. "Yes, I do," she said stubbornly. "You were just trying to be a good friend and I was cruel. I'm never cruel, but I was awful to you."

The hard lines of his face softened. "One of your best friends had just died, I think you're allowed some leeway," he said and she sighed, dropping her forehead to rest on her forearms, neatly folded atop the railing.

"I can't believe she's dead," Sadie admitted at last, her voice muffled.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder. Bucky's thumb wore a comfortable path on her skin, rubbing back and forth, sending a jolt of warmth into her skin. Sadie shifted into his touch, wanting as much from his as he was willing to give. "I'm so sorry, Sadie," he said at last. "I know how much Betty meant to you."

Sadie straightened back up, sniffling. She'd kept her tears at bay so far and remained determined to do so. Falling apart now wasn't going to help anyone, especially when Evelyn needed more support than ever. "We roomed together through nursing school. The first time we met I was in our dormitory unpacking and in bounces this blonde wearing bright red lipstick and no regard for personal space." For the first time in days, a faint smile touched Sadie's lips. "Immediately she decided we were going to be the best of friends and I had no choice in the matter. And we were," she added.

Bucky let out a low chuckle. "That sounds right based off our one conversation. She loved you, I could tell."

Sadie shrugged. "I was always a little too straight-laced for her. I used to drive her crazy because I'd never let her set me up with her friends. She used to call me Saint Sadie because I studied all the time."

"You? Work too hard?" Bucky teased lightly. "Impossible."

A half laugh escaped her lips. On impulse, Sadie's fingers trailed to the fine chain nestled against the steel ball chain holding her dog tags. She fished her father's wedding ring and saints medallions from beneath her shirt, rubbing her thumb over the ring. "I was lucky. My father gave me books and my mother taught me to dance, but I never had to marry to keep my family secure. I had the luxury of preferring country roads to cotillions."

Bucky rest his elbows on the rail on either side of his body, leaning back. He pursed his lips to keep his amusement at bay. "I have a hard time picturing you in anything but a uniform," he admitted with a wry grin. "I don't even remember what you look like with makeup."

Sadie wrinkled her nose and gave him a gentle shove. "I can clean up when I want to," she countered.

Dropping his head back, Bucky smiled up at the sun. "Oh, I have no doubt, Nurse Reid."

They were silent a moment longer and Sadie shifted her body, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. She avidly wished she could relax as Bucky did, one fluid line of lithe muscle. As her thoughts had often done in the last few days, she thought of Betty and what she'd say if she could see Sadie now. Betty teased Sadie mercilessly about Bucky after he left the hospital, suggesting that Sadie's feelings were more than friendly, despite her adamant protests to the contrary. But, as she often was in the end, Betty was right. The raw edges of the fresh hole in Sadie's heart ached.

"I drug her here with me," said Sadie.

"Hmm?" Bucky asked, face still turned up to the sky.

"It was my idea to join the army," she said and took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in her side.

"Why?" Asked Bucky, curiosity piquing in his voice as he shifted his attention back to her. A veil of safety had settled over Sadie. The way Bucky gazed at her practically implored an explanation, as though he were desperate to know everything that made Sadie Reid tick. And she suddenly felt she could tell Bucky anything and she wanted to.

"My father died at Pearl Harbor," she said, her voice growing hoarse. "He was on the _Arizona_. Evie and Betty sat up all night with me when I heard. I thought I'd never recover from the shock. The whole country was in an uproar and all I could think about was how scared he must have been without my mother and I. And my mother, she just – she became this shell of the woman she was, empty and with no purpose. As though her entire reason for living was gone. Even now I think she's just waiting until she can go on and be with my father again."

Sadie found Bucky staring at her, more serious than she'd ever seen him before. His eyes were unreadable, an endless sea all their own. Her lungs grew tight and she turned away, wishing her heart didn't hurt so much. "And I remember looking at her thinking that if I could prevent even one wife or mother or sister from going through that, then I just had to; so I joined the Nursing Corps. Evie and Betty wouldn't let me go it alone and now Betty's dead."

"It's not your fault, Sadie. Surely you know that," said Bucky firmly.

"I do," said Sadie softly. She turned around to leaned gingerly against the back of the railing. Her heart swelled in her chest, uncomfortable as it struggled through each beat. Bucky stood so close to her now she could feel the heat from his body radiate into hers. "But it doesn't ease the pain. I know I need to write to her mother, but how can I find the words to tell her how sorry I am that she's going through the very thing I wanted to prevent?"

Gentle, callused fingertips slid across her palm and Bucky's hand filled hers. He squeezed it, trying to imbibe some measure of comfort into her. Sadie knew that she couldn't, that they were in full view of the entire ship, but she still felt the urge to bury herself in his arms. A tiny voice in the back of her head told Sadie that he would be happy to let her. "You can't take responsibility for every life, Sade," he said, his voice low. "And I understand wanting to shut the world out, but you shouldn't. You have friends who want to be there for you, myself included."

Sadie blinked hard, pushing her tears away. "Oh," she said, finding a watery smile. "We're friends now, are we?"

Bucky ducked his head, chuckling. "Well, we did spend the night in a foxhole and you did stitch me up. I reckon that's enough to make anyone friends."

At long last, a laugh bubbled in her throat. Without thinking about it, Sadie moved her hand against Bucky's, lacing their fingers together. Bucky looked down and she did not miss the change in his smile or the new light that came to his eyes. "I suppose you're right, buck sergeant," she admitted. "I am truly sorry though, for the way I treated you."

Bucky gently rest his shoulder against hers. "Apology accepted, but only if you start calling me Bucky."

Sadie shook her head, smiling broadly. "You may as well give that endeavor up, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky didn't argue with her. Instead they shared a private smile over a joke only they understood. Sadie's whole body relaxed and she found for the first time days she didn't hurt quite so bad. But the realization of what they were doing came back in a rush when a soldier turned the corner on the deck and she let go of Bucky's hand, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Her cheeks burned from her flush, what were they doing? Holding hands out in the open and against every rule Sadie had set for herself?

"I should go," she said awkwardly. "I need to check on the replacement nurses and make sure they haven't done more damage than good."

"Yeah, yeah go," said Bucky hurriedly, slightly pink-cheeked. "I promised Dum Dum and Nix a poker game, so I should head that way, too."

They stepped apart and Sadie dared to look up at him through her eyelashes. Bucky looked right back at her, unflinching. "I'll see you around buck sergeant," she said and slid her foot back to take another step. "Though I'd better not see you wounded again."

The familiar, self-assured grin returned. "I'll do my best, Nurse Reid," he said tipping his head toward her. "You stay out of trouble, too."

"No promises," she teased and then bade him goodbye.

Sadie had just turned around and started to walk away when she heard the snap of Bucky's fingers. "Arkansas!" He said, his certain voice carrying on the breeze. "You're from Arkansas."

She turned back to look at him, beaming. "Little Rock, born and raised," she said and then continued on her way. Sadie didn't see Bucky silently clap his hands together in delight at his little victory, spinning on heel and striding away with renewed determination.

 **A/N: See? I can write fluff! Next chapter features everyone back in action. I can't believe we're at Azzano. Ahhhh.**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think! Like all writers, I love and crave your feedback! Much love - Kappa**


	11. Saints and Stars

**A/N: A hundred apologies for the delay! My best friend's wedding was gorgeous and amazing and** _ **exhausting**_ **, I've been a zombie all week long! On the bright side, my reward for surviving the clouds of hairspray, fake eyelashes, champagne, and general chaos was seeing** _ **Civil War**_ **on Sunday…so things could definitely be worse! I have lots of thoughts on the movie, but for the moment I am trying to stay firmly planted in the 1940's (that's not to say my mind isn't spinning off in about a thousand directions!).**

 **SO. MUCH. LOVE. Your reviews are the highlight of my day whenever they pop up in my inbox! Thank you so, so much for the reviews, the favorites, and follows. I know I didn't send PM's after last chapter, TBH I've been pretty short on time lately and figured y'all would rather I put that time towards writing! Also, I'm very sorry for any typos, misspellings, or errors you might catch! I write beta-free and I definitely tend to miss things during a third or fourth read-through of a chapter!**

 **Anyway, this chapter is on the slow side. There's some unavoidable set-up that I have to get through for Azzano. The more I started thinking about the mechanics of the 107** **th** **being so far north during the Italy campaign, the more my head started to hurt! We return to the action next chapter, though!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** _ **Captain America**_ **or** _ **Marvel**_ **.**

 **Chapter 11 – Saints and Stars**

Sestri was beautiful. Nestled along the northwestern coast of Italy, the small port town remained largely untouched by the war. Peggy had grown accustomed to seeing towns reduced to crumbling buildings surrounded by mountains of rubble. But the buildings in Sestri were unscathed, bathed in late September sunshine and idyllic as they crowded along the rocky coast overlooking the blue sea. This was the Italy Peggy imagined, old and dowsed in endless amounts of charm.

She couldn't seem to take her eyes off the town as she followed Colonel Phillips and Howard up the sandy beachhead to a small open-sided tent. All around them, landing craft were bringing soldiers ashore. Platoons of companies Peggy couldn't name were organizing and helping haul supplies from the craft to be loaded onto trucks that would follow the 107th into Azzano. The support staff lingered behind on the ship, waiting until the men were assembled before following ashore. The field kitchen and field hospital were both waiting on deck, organizing their own personnel, gear, and supplies.

"Gorgeous weather," said Howard briskly. "Hey, Peg! How about we stop off on the way out of town for a taste of the local cuisine? Perhaps osso buco or risotto con tartufo?"

"I'm fine with the field kitchen, thank you. And stop calling me 'Peg'" said Peggy keeping her gaze firmly ahead.

Phillips muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like _"Damn lothario, can't walk ten feet without trying to get up someone's skirt."_ Peggy's lips quivered once or twice but she managed to keep a straight face as they crested the hill and ducked under the shade of the tent.

A large, scrubbed wooden table stood beneath it, littered with maps, papers, and photographs. A woman stood beneath its shade also, dressed in civilian garb and looking rather plain. Peggy recognized the woman at once and her red lips spread into a welcoming smile. "Helen!"

Helen Guidry's face lit up at the sight of Peggy and she came around the table. "Agent Carter! I heard a rumor that I might be seeing you in these parts!" Helen exclaimed, betraying her deep, husky voice. "It's wonderful to see you, again."

The women gripped each other's hands firmly before Peggy stepped aside. "So, you must be our SOE contact," said Colonel Phillips, a bite of impatientce in his voice.

"Yes, sir. I'm Helen Guidry." She said and held out her hand to him.

"Colonel Phillips," he said, giving her a firm shake before tilting his head to Howard and introducing him. "Agent Carter, it appears, you already know."

"We know each other from Agent Carter's days in the SOE before Doctor Erskine snapped Peggy up for the SSR." Helen's brown eyes narrowed a fraction as she evaluated Phillips' stiff shoulders and shifting gaze. "But you're not here to reminisce. So let's get down to it, shall we?"

Helen's no-nonsense approach seemed to please the Colonel and he nodded. "Anything new?"

"Nothing groundbreaking," said Helen as she handed copies of a fresh intelligence report to each of them. "Our operatives have been working deep undercover across the northern part of the country. Italy's on the verge of total collapse and we want to have a strong foothold when it does. Our intelligence is uniform across the board: Nazi presence is limited to Azzano Decimo and the surrounding region, creating a U-shape moving up towards the Austrian border."

As she spoke, Helen gestured to a detailed map of the area where several flags were placed to indicate the presence of German infantry companies. "The main problem you're facing is that the Germans have cut the roads leading north and they've successfully taken Azzano, putting a stranglehold on communications and supplies. You'd be hard pressed to get anywhere in the region without Azzano."

"And HYDRA?" Howard asked, leaning over to take up the pictures on the table.

"Nowhere to be seen in Azzano or the countryside. If they're operating over the Austrian border it's only to supply the Germans," said Helen.

"What about the compound?" Phillips asked. He spared a look over Howard's shoulder as he did, trying to make sense of the keyhole photographs.

"Now that's a different story altogether," said Helen. She brushed a few flyaways of dark hair impatiently from her face. Plucking the photographs right out of Howard's hands, she laid them back out on the table. "Our areal intelligence is coming from the U.S. Army. A handful of their pilots got lucky and had a clean run over the compound about two days ago and it's fairly revealing. You can see there's the main building with at least two wings, one of which is attached to a large fenced in yard. During the flyover the planes managed to catch a couple shots of what looks like men working in the yard being overseen by three manned guard towers."

Peggy frowned and examined the photographs closer. Sure enough, she could see the miniscule rectangles that were likely trucks, along with crates in the yard. "They're loading trucks? With what?" She asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Helen. "The only HYDRA weapons we've seen are older models. If they're producing anything new it certainly hasn't reached Italy."

"Maybe they're shipping product north to fight against the Russians? Or in preparation for the allied invasion of Europe?" Howard suggested.

"Yes, but that's months away," said Peggy impatiently. "It doesn't make sense that they'd stockpile brand new weapons and not use them in combat now. It's possible it's all research materials," she mused.

"For a compound that big?" Phillips asked, incredulous.

"As I said, we haven't seen new weapons. But we're fairly certain those men working in the yard are prisoners. There wouldn't be so many guard towers otherwise," said Helen.

Colonel Phillips shifted the pictures on the table, placing a larger photograph of the entire compound on top. "There are guard towers posted all along the compound," he said, tapping his index finger on each of several more guard towers dotting the inner structure of the compound and along the outer fence.

Peggy scowled. "You think they're doing more than just keeping prisoners?"

"I don't think those towers are there to just keep people in," he said gruffly.

A chill slipped down Peggy's spine at the thought. Even with all of the intelligence laid out before them, she couldn't help the feeling that they were walking into Azzano blind. Crossing her arms over her chest, Peggy's mind drifted to the crowd of soldiers gathering onto troop convoys with no idea what they were driving towards. So often she'd considered the gross unfairness of war, taking its toll on men-boys, really-who were so unfortunate as to be born at exactly the wrong time.

Helen began to gather up the photographs. "Another SOE operative will greet you when you arrive outside of Azzano with fresh intelligence. But we think you should initially take the Nazis in Azzano by surprise. Once you force them out of the town they should flee north into the woods."

"That's the plan," said Phillips.

"Yes, let's just hope there are no surprises along the way," said Peggy. As she spoke the words, her stomach sank, because no matter how she looked at the situation, surprise was imminent. The only question that remained was how bad the damage would be.

X X X

Sadie's aviator sunglasses did a serviceable job of covering the doubt swirling in her stormy eyes. She walked along the length of the main deck with Evelyn and Ruthie, all three women staring at the line of five replacement nurses. With her hands in her trousers pockets, Sadie tried to keep her gait steady and not let her continually aching ribs get the better of her. All five young women had boarded the _S.S. Susan B. Anthony_ wearing pristine field uniforms and Sadie thought they looked just as uncomfortable now as they had back then. She bit back her smirk. Sadie couldn't remember the last time she'd worn a dress or a skirt, much less stockings and high heels.

"They look awfully green," said Ruthie warily.

"Did we look this nervous?" Evelyn asked, a scowl playing at her lips.

One of the replacements, a tiny blonde looked as if she couldn't lift more than fifteen pounds, kept self-consciously touching her hair. "We didn't have time to be nervous," said Sadie. "After that hellacious overseas cruise we were so busy with training we didn't have two seconds to think about it."

"I guess that's true," mused Evelyn. "They just look so innocent."

"They are innocent," said Sadie darkly. "If we're lucky, they'll stay that way."

"Amen to that," said Ruthie. The line of replacements had all spotted the three women by now and watched them with some kind of unrestrained awe. Sadie had noticed their general deference and near-skittishness around the seasoned nurses. More than once, Sadie found herself wishing Betty was there, just to see what she'd do with the fresh crop. Although the hole still ached in Sadie's heart, the worst of the initial burn was gone, leaving her with now-manageable grief.

"Though we're hardly what I call lucky," said Evelyn bitterly. Sadie cast her friend a sideways look. Evelyn had taken the blow of Betty's death much harder than Sadie had. Sadie figured this was because Evelyn had never lost a loved one in her entire life. More than once in the days following Betty's death, Sadie had woken to the soft, muffled sounds of Evelyn's sobs into her pillow. This prompted Sadie to crawl out of her bed and curl up next to her friend, stroking Evelyn's auburn hair until she fell back to sleep.

The five replacement nurses didn't speak to each other and they all stood ramrod straight. Sadie had spent the journey north with the quintet, teaching them the basics of how the hospital operated. Although all five women were qualified nurses, they clearly had not been prepared for the off the cuff way the 80th operated, or for the extra duties they were expected to perform. It was now Sadie's job to whip them into shape and get them ready for their trip to Azzano and for the 107th's eventual assault on the town itself and surrounding land.

"I guess I should fill them in on the new order of operations," muttered Sadie. "Will you wait for me?"

"Of course we will," said Ruthie warmly.

"Wouldn't dare miss your grand address," added Evelyn with a smug smile.

"Not a word from either of you," said Sadie sharply, but more to Evelyn. "They're already scared enough as it is, I don't need you making it worse."

Evelyn, who had taken on a rather flippant attitude over the last few days mock saluted Sadie. Laughing, Sadie swatted her friend's hand away before breaking off from her friends. Evelyn and Ruthie took residence on a series of nearby crates, just within earshot. Sadie veered towards the replacements. She vaguely remembered some of their names. Laura, Anna, and maybe Marjorie? She still wasn't entirely sure.

Several of the young women averted their gaze as a handful of soldiers walked by, wolf-whistling as they passed. Rolling her eyes, Sadie bit back a litany of unpleasant comments and instead put all of her focus on her new girls.

"Good afternoon, ladies," she said watching each girl carefully from behind her sunglasses. "I believe we'll be landing soon and loading up on troop trucks headed for Azzano. I've been ordered to bring you up to speed on the changes in operations. As you know, field hospitals typically remain thirty miles behind the front line. But during this operation we are alone and as such, it's dangerous to remain so far away. My understanding is we'll be closer to ten miles from the front with patrols from the 107th accompanying us at all times. You are not to leave the camp for any reason at all, you are not to go to the front lines, you are not to engage in any kind of combat. We are nurses and our job is to provide the best care possible," said Sadie firmly.

"By now I'm sure you know that we have no evacuation or base hospital following us. We will be relying on sporadic air support to evacuate our wounded and drop supplies. Because of this we've been issued an extra ward tent and cots for the sole purpose of housing the wounded. Our doctors will be reserved for surgery, which means you will be expected to perform tasks you would not normally do including sutures, blood transfusions, and burn treatments," said Sadie. All five nurses exchanged alarmed looks. "If you don't now how to do something, ask a seasoned nurse. We are all happy to teach you and help you."

Sadie looked over her shoulder at Ruthie and Evelyn who casually waved at the replacement nurses. "Do you have any questions?"

One of the girls hesitantly raised a shaking hand. "Nurse Reid? What happens if we're attacked?"

Sadie's face turned to stone. The rumors of the 80th field hospital's bombing were now pervasive. More than once she'd overhead the replacements talking in hushed voices about the bombing, about who died, and about how scary it must have been. They had no idea, she thought bitterly. "We follow the protocol you learned during basic training. We provide support for the doctors and most importantly, we never abandon our patients."

Perhaps harsh, but accurate thought Sadie. Each girl turned rather pale, but stood with squared shoulders, resolute in the face of possible danger. Sadie knew it had to be difficult for these poor nurses, coming into an established hospital, still licking its wounds. Her face softened at the thought and she stepped closer to them, offering a small smile.

"We stick together and we take care of each other," she said gently. "If you can remember that you'll be just fine. It's a lot easier to run towards the danger if you aren't running alone."

The replacements relaxed at her words. "Yes ma'am," they all said in unison.

"Alright, now get back to your quarters and get your things, dismissed." All five girls fell out of line and started back towards the nurses' quarters.

Sadie turned back to return to Ruthie and Evelyn. Both women applauded her as she approached. "Bravo!" Cried Evelyn.

"Oh, shut up," grumbled Sadie. "This detail is going to be the death of me."

Ruthie and Evelyn had just started to tease Sadie when Doctor Holmes interrupted them. He looked better-rested than Sadie had seen him in a long time. The brilliant black eye he'd been sporting since the bombing was starting to fade into a rainbow of mottled colors. Sadie thought the black eye made him look just a fraction tougher than his Columbia education suggested.

"Afternoon, Doc," said Evelyn, from her spot reclined on her crates.

"Ladies," he said with a mild smile. "I trust you're all well? Lovely weather for a cross-country journey."

"I'll say," said Ruthie turning her round face out towards the blue water.

"Can we help with anything?" Asked Sadie.

Doctor Holmes waved her off. "No, no everything is fine. I've actually come by to share a small piece of news you might find interesting."

Evelyn immediately sat up. "Doc Holmes? Gossip? Say it isn't so!"

"Well, I don't exactly think its gossip, but I've just come from a meeting with the other hospital officers. It turns out that all three of you, along with two other nurses, and a handful of doctors have been nominated for the Silver Star."

Sadie's jaw dropped. "You're joking," she said bluntly.

"I can assure you that I'm not," he said, as though this were the best news he could possibly deliver. "The recommendations were submitted just before we shipped out."

Sadie crossed her arms over her chest and let out a low whistle. Upon joining the army, she'd learned bits and pieces about the various awards doled out to service men for bravery on the battlefield. But it never once occurred to her that she'd ever do anything meriting the distinction. "Based on everything we did during the bombing?" She finally asked.

"Yes," said Doctor Holmes. "It was felt that several of the nurses and doctors went above and beyond the call of duty, as it were."

"For doing our jobs?" Evelyn asked incredulous. "Because that's all I remember doing."

Doctor Holmes' face faltered. "Well, yes, but you performed your job under the most harrowing conditions."

Ruthie pursed her lips. "Which is what we were supposed to do," she pointed out.

"Who else was nominated?" Asked Sadie, slightly alarmed by her friends' decidedly dour nature.

"Ah- myself, Doctor McGuinty, Doctor Sanders, Bethany Hilliard, and Betty." He swallowed hard after he finished speaking. Evelyn's sharp, harsh laugh was jarring in Sadie's ears.

"Great, that's perfect," she said, acid dripping from her voice. "That'll be a great comfort to Betty's mother, I'm sure."

Doctor Holmes's face fell and Sadie's stomach turned in a knot. Normally she was the one making off-color comments and indulging in dark humor. Evelyn usually called Sadie out on her dry sarcasm, but it seemed that the tables had turned in the wake of Evelyn's grief. Sadie shot her hand out and grabbed Evelyn's upper arm. "Evie, that's enough," she said in a low, warning voice.

But Evelyn didn't look mollified in the least. "It's not right," she said, aggravated. "First we left her buried in that Godforsaken field and now this? A medal isn't going to bring her back."

Sadie's grip tightened, her fingernails digging into Evelyn's arm. Ruthie and Doctor Holmes couldn't bring themselves to look at Evelyn who stared moodily at Sadie, as though daring her to find a way to make the entire miserable situation better. But there were no words capable of performing that particular miracle. "It's an honor," she said at last, not taking her steely eyes off Evelyn who stared right back. And though she didn't quite feel that way, Sadie knew there was a time and a place for Evelyn's anger, and this wasn't it. "We should all be proud of what we did that night."

Evelyn sniffed angrily, but Sadie's words had at least brought the glimmer of a smile back to Doctor Holmes' face. "I agree," said Doctor Holmes with a grateful look at Sadie.

Without another word, Evelyn walked away and Ruthie followed, determined to try and make her friend feel better. Shaking her head, Sadie watched them grow smaller the further they tread down the deck.

"She'll start to feel better once we're working again," said Doctor Holmes, reading the concern on Sadie's face.

"I know. These things just take time."

Sadie, unable to think about Evelyn or Betty any longer, shifted her attention to the action on the beachhead. Already troop convoys were beginning to rumble up beyond the flat sands and onto roads that cut through Sestri. The beauty of the small town was what Sadie expected when she imagined Italy. The brightly colored buildings smiled out over the cerulean waters.

"Wouldn't it be nice to just ditch this whole army business and go off for a quiet meal?" Sadie wondered aloud. "No more wounded men, no more uniforms. Just a nice dress, an old bottle of red wine and good food."

"Sounds wonderful," agreed Doctor Holmes wistfully. "Though I think you'd better wear the dress."

Sadie laughed. As she looked out over the city she made herself a silent promise. One day, when the war was finally over, she'd come back. Sadie told herself that she'd wear a brand new dress and waste as much time as she wanted getting lost on the winding streets and indulging in all the comforts she'd given up for the war. It seemed like a faraway dream, but one worth holding onto.

X X X

The journey to Azzano Decimo took longer than anticipated. Everyone was on high alert as the troop trucks rolled out of Sestri and into the mostly uninhabited countryside. A Company split itself among the troop trucks carrying the field hospital, field kitchen, and support staff. Armed to the teeth with rifles, grenades, and any other weapon they could carry, the soldiers kept a keen watch over the countryside as the entire operation began journeying west. All of the doctors and technicians were issued rifles, ordered to keep them at all times when not performing hospital duties, much to the dismay of the nurses. Evelyn spent much of the first half hour of the trek complaining that it was ridiculous to expect the nurses to hide behind the men in the event of an ambush. After all, most of the doctors and technicians had never fired a gun in their lives either.

Sadie privately agreed with Evelyn, but chose to keep her views to herself. Instead she tried to enjoy the breathtaking northern countryside and clean, crisp air. Northern Italy unfolded around the convoy in a landscape of rolling fields and lush greenery. Each time the trucks crested over a hill, Sadie caught a fresh glimpse of vineyards and old buildings topped with tiled roofs. The gorgeous scenery was almost enough to take her mind off their destination and of how uncomfortable the journey to get there had been.

The troop trucks, designed purely for transportation purposes, were incredibly unforgiving and she felt every bump in the old roads reverberate through the tires and into her body. The rattling exacerbated her bruised ribs and now matter how Sadie moved, the side walls of the truck dug into the still-healing bruise on her back. To her intense displeasure, she'd needed help to even get onto the truck, unable to pull herself up with her left side still injured. When, at last, the truck stopped at a large field some fifteen miles outside of Azzano Decimo, Sadie couldn't feel her backside and her back ached worse than ever.

There was little time to dwell on her aches and pains, however, as they'd arrived with limited daylight. At once, the members of the 80th fell into a familiar routine. Everyone had a job and a purpose and they immediately got to work setting up the hospital tents. Unlike before, the hospital was incorporated into the 107th's base camp, fit in the middle of the camp, near the men's tents and field kitchen. Sadie oversaw technicians as they unloaded supply crates before moving in to take inventory of everything the hospital had. One of the replacement nurses, Marjorie followed her as a double check.

In the three days since arriving and setting up base camp, the soldiers had been preparing for the eventual assault on the town of Azzano. The field kitchen worked almost ceaselessly to keep up with the demands of such a large crowd and the members of the SSR were constantly shut in their tents reviewing intelligence and making plans. But, the field hospital remained quiet. Sadie and the seasoned nurses spent their time teaching the replacements new skills, reviewing triage procedures, and taking care of the few men who came through the ward tents. Evelyn's sour mood came and went, continually testing the boundaries of Sadie's patience.

The evening two nights before the 107th was set to move on Azzano was no different. Evelyn spent most of her day sulking as she saw a handful of patients complaining of various illness, or aching from old wounds. Sadie managed to successfully avoid her by instructing the replacement nurses how to perform blood transfusions; but by the time early evening came, Sadie couldn't ignore her friend any longer.

"C'mon, let's go get dinner. If I have to stay here another minute, I'll scream."

Evelyn kept walking as she spoke, forcing Sadie to jog to catch up. She ducked out of the first ward tent into the early evening. Drawing in a deep breath, Sadie savored the crisp, clear air that flooded her lungs. The air was a reminder of the coming Autumn.

The women wound their way through the line at the field kitchen before finding an empty table and bench. From their vantage point, Sadie could watch the comings and goings of the base camp. Evelyn sat across from her chattering idly about a patient she'd seen earlier in the day, something about a young man complaining that the field kitchen food upset his stomach.

"So, you know what I told him?"

"Hmm?" Sadie asked, not really paying attention. Instead she watched two familiar men as they made their way from the line, searching for an empty table. She remembered both men from the _Queen Victoria_ , but she couldn't remember their names to save her life. One of the men she'd recalled as having a badly sprained ankle and had done his dead level best to reign in his foul language every time she had to check his injury. Sadie's eyes slid to the redhead he walked with and she recalled with a small measure of amused guilt, that she'd helped him win a particularly contentious poker game.

"Sadie? You're not even listening to me are you! What's so important? And it had better not be that sergeant you're so sweet on."

Sadie choked on her sip of water. She was still coughing when her two acquaintances spotted her and changed their course, headed straight for her table. Her eyes watered and throat burned as she struggled to get the water out of her lungs. Evelyn, highly pleased with herself didn't hear either man approach and nearly came out of her skin when the redhead piped up from behind.

"Evening, ladies," he said with a rather jovial grin, blue eyes twinkling as he took in the sight of Sadie trying to regain her breath and Evelyn clutching her heart. "We're not interrupting anything, are we?"

"No," rasped Sadie and she lunged for her water to take another drink. "Please, sit."

"Don't mind if we do. Not sure if you remember me ma'am, but I'm Sergeant Dugan and this is Private Nixon."

Sadie nodded, finally able to speak. "Of course I do, sergeant," she said, finding a smile at last. Evelyn turned a funny shade of fuchsia as both men plunked down on either side of her, their trays laden with twice the amount of food that she had. Evelyn, now completely calm had taken it upon herself to make introductions, leaving Sadie to wipe the wetness from beneath her eyes. When had Evelyn decided that Sadie was sweet on Bucky? Was that even who she meant? Of course it was, thought Sadie, who else could it possibly be? She was so tied up in her thoughts that she almost didn't hear Sergeant Dugan pull her back into the conversation.

"Ah yes, we both owe quite a bit to Nurse Reid," said Dugan fondly. "On the good 'ole _Victoria_ she helped Nix out with a bad sprain and coached me to winning a cool twenty bucks."

"What? How?" Evelyn asked, resting her chin in her hands.

"A game of poker," said Dugan.

Sadie sighed when Evelyn snorted in laughter. "Poker? Sadie would know how to play poker if the cards danced in front of her face."

"No," said a new voice. "But she's really good at knowing when someone's lying."

Sadie's mouth fell open in soft surprise when Bucky sat down on her right while a strange man plunked down on her right. He waggled his eyebrows once at her with a devil-may-care smile. Unbidden to Sadie, her heart broke into a fresh sprint at the sight of him, clean-shaven and wearing the top two buttons of his uniform shirt undone. Evelyn's eyes immediately went to Sadie, a hint of relish dancing in them. Sadie wished the earth would just open up and swallow her whole, at least then she'd be saved from her embarrassment. "Sergeant Barnes, what a pleasant surprise," said Evelyn, though she didn't sound surprised in the least. "Who's your friend?"

Bucky introduced the man as Private Douglas Lovitz. He offered her a cheeky little smirk as he held out one of his hands. He was a reedy sort of man with a pointed nose and a sweep of almost black-brown hair. Sadie shook his hand, noting that the despite his wiry appearance he had a very strong grip. "How yah doin'?" He asked with a wink.

Sadie arched one of her eyebrows. "Awh c'mon, Dougie. That's no way to treat a lady," said Nixon.

"I was just trying to be nice! What's wrong with that?" Lovitz said, holding his hands up in defense.

"Oh yeah, you were just trying to be nice. You're so full of it," said Dugan sarcastically.

"So, how do you all know each other?" Evelyn asked loudly, cutting off the small argument that had broken out between Lovitz and Dugan.

All four men proceeded to spin off into a series of tales about their misadventures during boot camp. Sadie watched with particular amusement as Evelyn took a clear shining to Sergeant Dugan, listening to his stories with rapt attention. Lovitz spent much of dinner trying to recapture the spotlight by going out of his way to tell mortifying stories about his companions. This plan backfired spectacularly when Bucky proceeded to detail Lovitz's panic attack when he got his pants caught crawling in the mud beneath barbed wire during an obstacle course run.

Sadie couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed herself so much. Even Evelyn noticeably cheered up. The brightness returned to her eyes and the bitterness she'd been carrying around for days left her. The group sat together for some time after they finished eating.

Throughout, Sadie was particularly aware of Bucky's proximity to her. The last time she'd seen him was on the beachhead at Sestri. Even then it had been a brief glance and he hadn't seen her. Sadie often caught herself looking for him during her daily routine, only to forcefully tell herself to stop, lest she make a spectacle out of herself. Now he sat close enough for Sadie to feel the heat from his body through his uniform shirt and she caught the scent of fresh soap from his skin. Their closeness only served to further confuse Sadie as she simultaneously wished she could put an entire field between their bodies and still eliminate the small distance between them.

Evelyn began telling stories about nursing school, including the first time she had to draw blood and fainted. Sadie chimed in, joking about how it took three instructors to practically drag Evelyn out of the ward, all while Betty laughed so hard she cried. Beneath the table she felt the gentle bump of Bucky's knee against hers. The nerves he touched went haywire. She drew in the tiniest sharp breath, immediately wondering if it had been an accident. But, then he did it again. While Evelyn continued to drone on, Sadie dared to steal a glimpse of Bucky. His baby blues flickered to her and then back to the rest of the group.

His knee came to rest against hers and an entire army of butterflies burst forth in Sadie's stomach. Did this infuriating man have any idea what he did to her? For years and years, Sadie had sworn to herself she wouldn't be the kind of woman who let herself get carried away on the charms and promises of any man. She'd never wanted her entire world to become wrapped up in someone else because she'd seen the evidence of how horribly wrong it could go. And yet, as she relaxed into his secret, but surprisingly intimate action, Sadie was beginning to wonder how she could ever separate her world from Bucky's. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, their lives seemed destined to intertwine.

Bucky's laugh filled the air between them and a wonderful, comfortable warmth began to slip through her veins, reaching into the tips of her fingers and toes. Maybe they were just always supposed to find each other. And Sadie began to wonder if that was such a bad thing after all.

X X X

"Hey! Donnellson! You got any smokes?" Newly-promoted Corporal Gerald Meyers shouted over the din. Private Bill Donnellson started at being addressed, his Bambi-brown eyes widening. Bucky smirked as he continued to check Donnellson's gear, ensuring his single new replacement was ready for the convoy right and short march to Azzano Decimo.

"Uh, yeah," he said and began fumbling in his chest pocket.

"Meyers, don't you have your own?" Bucky chided as he took Donnellson's rifle and detached the bayonet. The young private turned a faint shade of pink at his supposed mistake. "We're not going to be in a close combat situation, you shouldn't need it," he explained in a low voice, saving Donnellson from any embarrassment.

F Company had gathered at the assembly area just outside of the base camp. In a matter of minutes, they'd all load up onto troop trucks, headed for the band of woods just southwest of Azzano. From E and F Companies would make the main assault on Azzano while the remainder of the 107th pushed the Germans from their positions in the surrounding countryside. After having several days off the front line, Bucky was dreading it. It was easy to go from one combat zone to the next when there was on rest in between. The break left him feeling too refreshed and a little rusty, not ideal for diving headlong back into conflict.

Donnellson fished out his pack of cigarettes and tossed them to Meyers. As he took the first puffs of his cigarette, Meyers stretched out his arms and rotated his shoulders, wincing as his previously wounded shoulder pulled. "Damn shoulder, it's never going to be the same," he complained under his breath.

"It could have been a lot worse, Meyers," muttered Bucky.

Meyers suddenly hit the front of Bucky's shoulder with the backside of his hand. "Speaking of my shoulder, check it out!" He said excitedly. "That's Nurse Reid! I haven't seen her since I was evacuated from the hospital in Sicily!"

Through a gap in the crowd, Bucky saw Sadie. Even dressed in the same field uniform, she stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd of men. Yet, despite her decidedly smaller stature, she commanded the attention of the small crowd around her as she waited for another soldier in Bucky's platoon to roll his sleeve up, revealing a crisp white bandage around his his arm. A pair of aviator sunglasses were folded over the second button of her shirt and her sleeves were rolled high above her elbows, allowing for better movement.

"It certainly is," said Bucky as he drank in her face. The bruise she'd been sporting across her cheek was nearly gone, replaced by a healthy glow and a smile as she began to unwind her patient's bandage.

Bucky managed to tear his eyes from her face, only to notice he certainly wasn't the only man admiring her, a beauty in a veritable sea of sharks. If Sadie cared about the attention she was receiving she didn't let it show, but Bucky knew her well enough by now to know she likely had no idea how every man near her stared. Worst of all was Lieutenant McAllister who hovered at her elbow, watching his soldiers with a borderline smug look on his face. Generally, Bucky liked McAllister, but this was too much!

Bucky casually followed Meyers who was muttering something about saying hello. Sadie hadn't looked up from her task at hand, checking the status of what appeared to be stitches just above the man's elbow. Holding his arm, Sadie rotated it before carefully bending his elbow, speaking as she worked. Bucky was just out of earshot, but he knew she was displeased by the way her brows furrowed, not missing the subtle wince on the man's face.

"Damn, she's pretty. And not just field nurse pretty y'know?" Babbled Meyers. "Cause some of the nurses are just fine for here and now, but you get them home and it's a whole different story. But nurse Reid is one of those that you'd take home to your mother and show off to your friends."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Bucky fought the impulse to tell Meyers to shut up. Instead he forced his gaze away back to Donnellson who stood next to him. "Do you have grenades?" He asked the rifleman.

"What?" Donnellson asked stupidly. "Oh, no," he said, looking down at his unadorned chest.

"Make sure you stock up before we go," said Bucky. "We won't get more ammo until after we take the town."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sadie applying a fresh bandage to the soldier's arm and speaking to both him and McAllister. Whatever she'd said prompted McAllister to order the soldier off to somewhere else and he, too, strode away. Sadie watched them leave, brushing a stray tendril of hair from her face before she lifted her gaze when Meyers called her name. A brilliant smile graced her features and Bucky's heart stumbled over a beat as she made her way over to Meyers.

Bucky busied himself by running through a mental list of his gear, though he already knew he had everything he needed and could carry. These days he was convinced that he could prepare for battle in his sleep; carrying his entire life on his shoulders seemed second nature now. But, it never hurt to double-check and if it provided an excuse to not hover then he would happily triple check. It wasn't until Sadie's voice filled his ears that Bucky stopped recounting the magazines in his ammo bag.

"Fancy seeing you here," she said, a faint playful note hanging in the air.

"Well, I'm supposed to be here," he noted. "Are you planning on jumping into another foxhole again?"

Sadie fixed him with a wilting glare. "Oh, very funny, buck sergeant," she deadpanned. "I'm here because Lieutenant McAllister wanted me to look at one of the men in first platoon. Doc Holmes stitched him up the day before we left Salerno and we hadn't seen him since."

A litany of unpleasant comments surrounding McAllister's motivations rolled around in Bucky's head. Several reached as far as the tip of his tongue before he bit down, forcing them back. The last thing he needed was for any of his men nearby to overhear him say anything negative about McAllister. Besides, Bucky reasoned, if not for McAllister he wouldn't have seen Sadie before leaving. Sadie must have sensed his discomfort because she immediately dove into a new topic.

"So, are you ready?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, observing the commotion.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, nodding slowly. "As much as I can be," he said and adjusted his rifle strap over his shoulder.

"I guess you can't ever really be ready. The hospital's the same way in some respects. Except people aren't shooting at us," she paused and tilted her head to the side. "Usually."

He coughed over his laugh and just caught her wicked smile through a sidelong glance. Of the many things about Sadie that surprised Bucky, he perhaps loved her occasionally dark sense of humor the most. Girls back home preferred to laugh at his jokes rather than make their own. Bucky would take Sadie's sharp wit any day. "You sound better," he said at length.

Sadie ducked her head, shrugging her narrow shoulders. "I am," though she didn't sound entirely convinced of herself. "Sometimes the only way to get through is to find the humor, otherwise it's just a tragedy."

Bucky couldn't have put it better himself. He kept his gaze forward and surprised himself as the words came tumbling out of his lips. "My best friend's parents were both gone by the time he was eighteen. After his mom died he had to move out to a different building and the water wasn't working," he tucked his chin down, unable to keep the broad smile from his face. "So, I come over and of course he's in a terrible mood and we're trying to figure out what's wrong, neither of us know what we're doing and suddenly the pipe I'm working on bursts."

"Oh, it didn't," said Sadie with a sympathetic wince on top of her growing smile.

"Water shot to the ceiling and flooded the whole apartment," he said laughing. "I thought the super was going to kill us."

Sadie threw her head back and laughed and Bucky found he liked the way the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Okay, so never call on you for handyman services, got it. I've never heard you mention your friend before," she said, curiosity in her voice. "Is he in the army too?"

"Ah, no," said Bucky, pursing his lips together. "He lucked out, 4F."

"I'm sure he didn't see it that way," said Sadie perceptively.

Bucky thought it would be worse, talking about Steve. But he found it wasn't so awful after all. "Definitely not," he said with a half-chuckle.

"It must be hard," she said. "I have Evelyn here, I can't imagine being halfway across the world without at least one person I love."

Bucky swallowed hard and dared to steal another glance at her. How could he possibly tell her that things weren't as bad as he thought they'd be without giving his true feelings away? He chose not to say anything, watching a group of men huddled around the front of a jeep, receiving a blessing from the chaplain. Several of the men held crosses or rosaries in their hands. Nearby, Bucky could see another man stare fondly at a picture, clutching a gold locket.

"I've noticed a lot of the men brought small things from home, but I don't remember you having anything at the hospital," said Sadie absently.

"That's because I don't," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Nothing? Not even from a family member or a girlfriend?"

Bucky shifted his gaze back to her face. Sadie wasn't looking at him and he wished she would, he was desperate to try and figure out what she meant? He'd never once analyzed what a girl had said to him, but he would have given anything for Sadie to tell him if she'd asked about a girlfriend for a particular, personal reason. She felt something for him, of that much Bucky was certain. Their private song and dance two nights before at the field kitchen was proof enough of that. But the extent of her affection was a mystery, Bucky had never met a woman so difficult to read.

Rather than asking, he opted for a too-casual shrug of his shoulders, squinting slightly into the sun. "Nah, my family's not all that sentimental and I didn't leave anyone waiting for me back home. Why, did you?"

"Me?" Sadie asked, stunned that he'd turned the tables on her. "Heavens no. This might come as a shock to you, but I focused more on school than I did romance."

Her crass, self-deprecation broke the tension. He grinned at her. "Not shocking at all, disappointing every single guy in Arkansas, I'm sure."

Sadie let out a deadpan laugh. She reached just beneath the collar of her shirt and produced a fine silver chain that rest next to the steel ball chain holding her dog tags. Slipping the chain over her head, Sadie undid the clasp as she spoke. "Didn't we already have this conversation, buck sergeant? Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Oh, I don't know about that. We're friends now, aren't we?"

"Not for much longer if you keep that up," she warned playfully. Sadie slid a large round charm off the chain, holding it in her palm as she refastened the clasp and returned the necklace back where it belonged. "I've got to go and so do you, from the looks of things."

Bucky's attention turned back to his surroundings. Sure enough, the troop convoys were pulling up to the assembly area. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Take care of yourself, will you? I'm not stitching you up again," she said, a definite warmth in her eyes.

"I will," he said, though both of them knew it was a promise he likely couldn't keep. Sadie swallowed and Bucky suddenly found it impossible to say goodbye. The tips of his fingers twitched, begging to draw her into his arms, to soak up the immeasurable comfort that she gave him. A light flashed in her eyes and Bucky wondered if she was thinking the same thing. "I'll see you soon," he finally said, feeling pathetic that he couldn't say anything more.

Sadie nodded, offered him one last smile and a goodbye before she started to walk away. Bucky watched her and was glad he did as she stopped and turned around. "I almost forgot," she said and tossed the charm in her hand to him. Bucky barely caught it. This time there was no mistaking the affection lighting up her features. "Something small, for the road ahead."

Bucky waited until he was seated on one of the troop convoys before he opened his hand. Laying in his palm was a shining silver Saint Christopher's medal.

 **A/N: I hope all enjoyed the fluff! I promise that you all will have one more big Sadie/Bucky moment before the capture. Next chapter features the taking of Azzano, the replacement nurses melting down, and Sadie back in take-charge mode!**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think! I love, love, love reading your feedback! Much love - Kappa**


	12. Vineyards and the Calm Before the Storm

**A/N: Greetings! I'm so, so excited for the next handful of chapters – some of my favorite portions of the outline and written dialogue are all contained within this arc. I won't say anything that's going to happen, except that I hope you'll find it satisfying. I put a lot of thought into all of the decisions I made for Azzano, if anyone's interested in my rationale, I'm happy to share!**

 **Thank you a million times over for all of your amazing reviews, favorites and follows. I love reading your encouragement and feedback. In that vein – I have news. After waiting for nearly three months for security clearance, I'm finally starting a new job as in-house counsel for a company that does a lot of government contracting. This means I'm going to have less time for writing than I'd like. I am not going to give up on S &B, I promise. But I will say that the motivation you guys give me makes me more energized to write and update regularly, even after I'm exhausted from a job where ALL I do is read and write! (seriously…that's like all lawyers do…)**

 **Fair warning – I'm back at it again with the language, action, blood, and guts. Also – I basically listened to the soundtrack for HBO's** _ **The Pacific**_ **on loop as I wrote, so if you want an insight into this chapter, go have a listen!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** _ **Captain America.**_ **I do own Sadie, Evelyn, and all their friends over at the 80** **th** **field hospital along with many brave men in the 107** **th** **!**

 **Chapter 12 – Vineyards and the Calm Before the Storm**

A small vineyard sloped up a gentle hill leading towards Azzano. Straight rows of trellises ran parallel down the field, leaving clear paths for Bucky's rifle squad. Crouched down just inside the trees and just out of range of enemy fire, Bucky could barely see the top of a garden wall where the hill crested. Shafts of sunlight shattered golden through the turning leaves, casting shadows on the well-tended soil. It would have been better had they done this some weeks earlier when the leaves were still green, thought Bucky ruefully. But cover was still cover, and running low and fast between the vines was better than crossing an open field the way D Company would be doing in a matter of minutes.

It was a windless day. Not even a soft breeze ruffled the yellowing grape leaves on the vines or unsettled the grass that grew tall around Bucky's combat boots. Kneeling just inside the line of tall trees that backed up to the vineyard, Bucky couldn't hear the branches sway or any other telltale sign of a breeze or its direction. This in and of itself unsettled Bucky's stomach. Windy days were a both a blessing and a curse during combat. Shifting winds and unpredictable speeds impacted Bucky's accuracy on long distance shots. But, the same was true for the enemy and diminished accuracy meant a greater chance of survival. A windless day evened the score, and he didn't relish any factor that could give the Nazis a leg up, even if it helped him too.

The eleven men comprising his rifle squad crouched down around him, all waiting for the command to move out. It was an odd assortment of soldiers that came from coast to coast from Corporal Meyers up in Oregon all the way down to Private Pete Suarez who came from sunny Miami, Florida. Of his original eleven men, only six had made it with him from boot camp to now. Two men received injuries that earned them a one-way ticket home and four would never see home again.

"You know what I've figured out?" Said Lovitz as he shifted his weight where he remained crouched down.

Bucky shared a long-suffering glance with his assistant squad leader, Sergeant Keifer. "What's that, Dougie?" Keifer asked, knowing that Lovitz wouldn't let it go until someone asked.

"This whole goddamn war is a game of hurry up and wait, y'know? We rush to get to Sicily and end up sitting on our asses. It's the same thing over and over again, sitting on our asses in foxholes for maybe an hour of action."

Frank O'Connell did what every man was thinking and hit Lovitz upside the head. "You're such a fucking idiot, Lovitz" he chided. "Are you saying you actually want to see _more_ combat?"

Lovitz scowled and started shove O'Connell until Bucky put a stop to it. Lieutenant McAllister was jogging down the line that second platoon held, rifle slung over one shoulder and grenades swinging from the straps of his backpack. "Staff Sergeant Barnes," he said coming to a stop and dropping to one knee next to Bucky.

He held a map of the south side of Azzano in his hand. The paper was marked up with colored pencil representations of the maneuvers Bucky already knew. "Early scouts this morning suggest that the Germans know we're here. We're going to take enemy fire coming in," he hissed. Bucky's stomach turned in an uncomfortable knot. "Get your men up to that garden wall at the end of the vineyard and then clear the adjacent barn and farmhouse. I want your machine gunners in the house as soon as possible to provide covering fire while your riflemen start clearing buildings in pairs. Captain Willis wants to link up with D Company as fast as possible so put grenades in the ground floor windows. Keep it quick and dirty, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," said Bucky, jaw clenched. Around him, his men hardened with resolve, determined not to die and not to let their squad leader down.

"Good man," said McAllister, clapping his shoulder. "Once you're given the order to go, don't stop, keep moving as fast as you can through the vineyard until you reach cover. And keep an eye out for snipers, I'm relying on you to take them out."

Bucky nodded, not surprised in the least by this order. It was undisputed that Bucky was indeed the best shot in F Company. His apparent lot in life during military service was to act as F Company's unofficial sharpshooter and he had the unfortunate record to prove his deadly accuracy. Sweeping the thought from his mind, Bucky instead turned to his men as McAllister got up and moved down the line to third platoon.

"Well, you heard the man," said Bucky and they all advanced up to the very edge of the trees, prepared for the order to move out. In the spare seconds before, he slipped his hand into his pocket and rubbed his thumb over the silver Saint Christopher's medal. Bucky now understood why so many men clung to the tiny trinkets and gifts from loved ones they carried. More than once in the hours since he'd departed base camp, Bucky found himself toying with the medal and finding a surprising amount of comfort in it. He knew it had nothing to do with the medal itself, but rather everything to do with the woman who gave it to him.

And then, the medal drifted to the bottom of his pocket, forgotten as he motioned for his men to get to their feet. Crouched as low as possible, Bucky motioned for his squad to spread out along the rows between the vines and then gave the command to move forward. Bucky and his men all began jogging through the vines, keeping low. As one, Second Platoon began its assault on the town of Azzano.

The dirt pinged up some distance in front of him as the first bullets zinged from the barn and farm house overlooking the vineyard. Although Bucky couldn't see a single man faltering, he knew better than to run in silence next to them.

"Keep moving forward!" He bellowed, pushing himself into a run.

Machine gun fire burst on either side of Bucky and further down the perimeter of the city where the remainder of F Company began making its main assault. Fragments of the wooden trellises broke off, peppering Bucky's helmet and causing the remaining grapes on the vines to pop all around him. He moved to the side to avoid part of a trellis that had been knocked forward, narrowly missing a bullet meant for him.

The machine gun in the farmhouse directly ahead opened fire again. In his peripheral vision, Bucky saw Sergeant Keifer forced backwards under the fire power that blew straight through him. Unable to stop, Bucky gritted his teeth and kept running until, at last he dropped down and slammed his back against the low garden wall. Down the lane, he could see Keifer lying motionless. Bucky turned away to see nine other men hit the wall.

"Keifer's down," he said to Meyers who ended up next to him.

"Morales is wounded!" He shouted over the din.

Lovitz, Bucky's lead scout sidled his way down to crouch next to him. "Machine gun's on the top floor, far left window," he hissed sinking lower as several bullets ricocheted off the top of the stone wall.

"What about the barn?" Bucky asked.

Lovitz practically crawled along the length of the wall, pressing his back against the far edge of the corner of the wall. An ancient barn stood attached to the left side of the wall, set further back. Bucky followed him, keeping one knee pressed into the earth and his finger sitting just off the trigger of his rifle. Lovitz leaned out just enough to get a glimpse of the barn and hastily turned inward.

"What can you see?" Bucky asked.

"Not a damn thing," he said and rest the back of his helmet against the wall, eyes shut.

Bucky cursed under his breath. "Switch with me," he muttered. It took a considerable amount of shuffling, but the two men managed to trade places. Bucky tipped his helmet low over his brow, not that it would do any good against a direct hit. He turned his head, slowly shifting and adjusting his body to try and glimpse into the window. Just like Lovitz, Bucky initially couldn't see any sign of a rifle barrel or sniper. Rather, all he could see was hay stacked up high and darkness at the lower edges of the window. And then, just as Bucky turned back into full cover, he saw just the slightest movement of hay. The outline of the sniper's head appeared out of the dark edge of the window as if by magic, revealed by his costly blunder.

It was a windless day, thought Bucky with new relief. Even the slightest movement could betray a man and this particular sniper was about to have a really bad day.

"He's up there," said Bucky. "O'Connell, I want you and Suarez laying a base of covering fire. Lovitz, take another man and clear the barn house. Then get Cardwell and Hendrix upstairs with that machine gun. The rest will will follow me."

Bucky pushed his rifle into position and moved out. He lined up his shot and squeezed two rounds off in record time, allowing the sniper only one missed shot before going down. Along the center of the wall, O'Connell and Suarez had opened fire on the top floor of the house, combatting the machine gun fire that littered the open space between the wall and the building. Lovitz and Donnellson sprinted through the melee, and Bucky signaled for his remaining men to surge around the corner of the wall, bursting into the barn.

They were a well-oiled machine by now, each man knowing his place and role. Even two men down, Bucky and his crew cleared the barn before converging with Lovitz and the rest. In the window above them, Bucky's gunners opened a spray of machine gun fire into the visible windows and down on the German soldiers that ran for cover deeper into the town. Bucky wondered if the rest of second platoon and F Company were faring as well. But it didn't really matter. All that mattered were the guys surging ahead of him to shatter ground floor windows, ducking as the grenades they lobbed inside went off.

X X X

A thunderstorm blew through Little Rock the night before Sadie left for basic training. She sat on the front porch with her mother and Aunt Jeanette, drinking mint juleps and savoring the stillness that preceded the whopper that left branches scattered in the yard and the gutters overflowing. Sadie loved thunderstorms and she especially loved the eerie way the world grew perfectly calm just before the rain started. That night the thunder rolled in the distance, but the warm, dry air enveloped all three women as they sat and waited. At the time, Sadie couldn't help but think that the calm before the storm was a particularly cruel metaphor for her running off to war.

It turned out that Sadie still faced down storms in the army, just gales of a different kind. And just as there often was before a howling thunderstorm, a calm always preceded the first flow of wounded men during battle. Sadie walked down the rows of cots, silently checking for pillows, iv poles, work trays, stools, room to move, and anything else she might deem necessary. Marjorie Kent, one of the replacement nurses, followed close on her heels. Neither woman said a word. In fact, hardly anybody spoke, and the silence rang louder than any sound that would shortly follow it. Hospital staff moved with deliberate slowness and thoroughness. Technicians checked supplies, nurses checked beds, and in the surgery tents the doctors were already scrubbing their hands and donning their surgical gowns and caps. Sadie wore an apron over her uniform, the ties wrapped once around her waist. The necessary tools weighed down her pockets and she'd tied a red hair scarf over her simple up do.

Sadie stopped at the end of her row and rolled her shirt sleeves once more, keeping them high over her elbows. Marjorie followed her example, her hawk like eyes modelling nearly every aspect of Sadie's appearance, right down to the way she'd laced her combat boots and stowed tools in her apron. Of all the replacement nurses, Sadie liked Marjorie the best. The young girl from Colorado was timid, but incredibly thorough in her work. A fast learner, Marjorie had mastered all of the tasks and new skills she'd been taught.

Sighing, Sadie stretched her arms over her head, wincing as her left side pulled. Doctor Holmes, though he didn't like it, was resigned that Sadie couldn't sit out treating soldiers and relented to letting her return to full duty. She knew she'd pay for it when she woke stiff and sore the next morning, but Sadie ignored that for the moment.

"It's awfully quiet," said Marjorie, her clear voice soft over the words.

Sadie scowled. "Don't let anyone else hear you say that," she warned. "It's a bit of a superstition around here to say that. People think it means that something bad is going to happen."

Marjorie made a funny, confused face, her pert nose scrunching up. "Isn't it going to be bad regardless?

For the first time all day, Sadie smiled. "Well, I think we all know that, but everyone prefers to pretend as though it isn't true."

"That's stupid," said Marjorie, displaying a blunt streak Sadie hadn't expected. For a split second, she was reminded so strongly of Betty that she nearly laughed.

"It's just the calm before the storm," said Sadie. "Let's just hope that the intelligence on the German forces in Azzano is accurate and they aren't well-prepared for our boys."

As she spoke, Sadie fiddled with the Saint Agatha's medal and her father's wedding ring, dutifully hanging around her neck. It was strange, every time she touched the chain since the 107th left to take Azzano, she'd thought only of Bucky. The absence of the Saint Christopher's medal served as a strong reminder that while she was here, he was in the thick of danger and could very well end up in one of the ambulances that would soon be racing to the hospital from the front lines. Sadie's stomach rebelled at the thought, though she suspected she'd look for his face, no matter how hard she'd try not to.

"Do you know them well? Any of the men in the 107th?" Marjorie asked as she raised her hands to check that her simple chignon was secure.

"Some of them," said Sadie absently, keeping her eyes on the tent flaps that opened out to the main road running through base camp. "Though before we left for here it was rare to see any soldier more than once."

Sadie silently folded Bucky in as an exception to the general rule and chose to remain silent on the subject. Evelyn joined them from the other side of the tent, wiping her hands off with a towel before stuffing the small rag into one of her pockets. "Talk about a tense crowd," she said flatly. "You'd think none of us have treated wounded men before."

"Some of us haven't," said Marjorie nervously at the same time as Sadie spoke up.

"It's the first time we've been up and running since the bombing," she pointed out stonily. "I don't blame everyone for being a little nervous."

Evelyn's face froze in an uncharacteristically ugly expression before she turned from Sadie to look out of the open tent entry, where the ambulances would eventually arrive. "Even we're not so unlucky as to be hit twice."

Sadie wasn't a superstitious person, but even she couldn't stop herself from smacking Evelyn's shoulder with the back of her hand. "Don't tempt fate like that!" She snapped. Marjorie's head whipped between the two women, like watching volleys in a tennis match. Evelyn recoiled with a bark of laughter. "Are you insane?"

"There's been some debate," said Evelyn under her breath. Marjorie clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. Even Sadie cracked a grin and gently shoved her shoulder against Evelyn's in a silent apology.

The hospital and base camp sat even closer to the front lines than expected. At a mere five miles, the hospital staff could almost run to get their own patients if they really wanted to. Sadie felt nervous, bordering on jittery, as the nurses waited for their first wounded of the day. Working in the hospital ward of the _Susan B. Anthony_ on the way to Azzano hadn't bothered her in the slightest, even the first few days working inside the new first ward tent hadn't phased her. But, standing in the tent awaiting soldiers set her teeth on edge in a way she hadn't expected. Sadie's stomach kept up a routine of gymnastics that threatened her iron willpower and her heart couldn't find a steady beat. Five miles was a stone's throw in terms of battle. Was the 80th field hospital in mortal danger yet again?

In the far distance a mortar went off. Sadie visibly flinched and almost immediately Evelyn's hand filled hers. Closing her fingers over Evelyn's hand, Sadie nearly came out of her skin as another shell exploded far away, though louder than the first. Squeezing her eyes shut, Sadie drew back on her father's advice and counted to five, reminding herself that she was alive and safe with each deep breath. She clutched her father's wedding ring and as she reached 'five' she opened her eyes, still holding Evelyn's hand. The first jeep came into sight, followed shortly by two more.

"Marjorie?" Sadie asked, dropping Evelyn's hand.

"Yes, Nurse Reid?"

"You're with me for the first few patients."

"Yes, ma'am," she said and followed Sadie as they ran into the road to greet the runners as the jeeps ground to a halt.

Looking at Marjorie once over her shoulder Sadie added another thought. "And call me Sadie!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Marjorie said.

Sadie bit back a sigh and hurried to the front stretcher while Evelyn took on the wounded man in the back of the jeep. "Well, we'll work on that," she said and then gripped one side of the stretcher as the runner took the other. "What do we have?"

The runner's explanation turned out to be quite unnecessary. Marjorie's face paled at the sight of the man's left calf. Not even two large compression bandages could cover the top and bottom edges of the wound and Sadie could see large chunks of his flesh missing and part of the fabric of his uniform embedded into the burnt edges. Every small bump and jostle heightened his pain and he howled in misery as Sadie and the runner hurried him inside.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Couldn't the motherfuckers just blow the goddamn thing off instead!" He wailed.

Sadie pursed her lips together as she untied the bandage. "Let's take a look, Sarge," she said, glancing at the chevrons on his jacket.

Already the runner was gone, presumably headed back to the front lines. The sergeant clenched his jaw as she began to pull the bandages from his wound. But even his brave attempt at fighting the pain failed as the gauze and cotton pulled at his exposed nerves and muscle. "Hold him down!" Sadie snapped to Marjorie.

Marjorie was just too tiny to restrain the large man, though she tried her hardest. His back arched as Sadie rotated his leg to get a better look. The blast, either from a mortar or grenade, had torn the flesh clean from his bone in places and had shattered a portion of it, causing the wasted limb to lay at an odd angle. The string of curses that emitted from his mouth was so bad that even Sadie blushed, she thought she'd heard it all by now.

"Marjorie, what do you recommend?" Sadie asked, but she was already signaling for two technicians.

"Immediate surgery and amputation just below the knee," she said immediately.

"Good girl," said Sadie over the man's shouted disbelief. Sadie hurriedly redressed the wound with fresh bandages over the sergeant's loud complaints. At last, two technicians hauled him out of the first ward tent, bound for surgery where he would likely be the first operation of the day. "He's lucky, he shouldn't have to wait," she noted.

Marjorie wiped the sweat from her brow. "Are they all like that?"

"They usually aren't that vocal," said Sadie as they moved to greet the next runner.

The day wore on and Marjorie followed Sadie until the patient flow forced them to work apart. Sadie moved from one soldier to the next, sending critical patients off to surgery and comforting men through the worst of their pain and even death. She saw only two men from F Company, but that didn't stop her from looking for Bucky's face with each stretcher that passed into the first ward tent. Coming back to work and immersing herself in the chaotic flow was the best treatment for Sadie's addled nerves. As the sun tracked higher in the clear sky, Sadie found she forgot to flinch at the sound and rumble of distant explosions.

The calm before the storm gave way to the full-fledged gale. But, Sadie hardly noticed and she wouldn't until after the sound of explosions faded and calm returned once more.

X X X

A wide road cut the north side of Azzano off from the pine forest that rose up at the bottom of a steep hill. Sometime during the early afternoon hours, D and F Company moved as a united force and pushed the Nazis across the road and down the hill. For a while, it had been like shooting fish in a barrel as D Company's mortars and F Company's machine guns blasted the sloping hill in one of the most impressive displays of firepower Bucky had ever seen. Catching a glimpse of the dozens of bodies littered across the short field afterwards had been a different story, and while some soldiers took delight in yelling profanities and cursing their souls, Bucky couldn't bring himself to stare too long at the carnage.

The surviving members of the broken Nazi line retreated into the trees back to the position they'd held before taking Azzano. All fell quiet for a time, allowing the men of the 107th to regroup and send the wounded back to the field hospital. The retreating Nazis hadn't stayed down for long, though, and after about two hours of blessed silence, the first artillery rounds slammed into the road and took out part of the retaining wall that ran parallel to it. Forced into cover, the 107th would simply have to endure the periodic shelling in the comfort of the town's houses. Captain Willis ordered F Company to hold its position. For the next handful of days the 107th would be responsible for holding the line while waiting for the 92nd Light Armored Division to arrive as backup for the next attempt to push the line further north.

With the exception of Keifer and Morales, Bucky's squad made it through with minimal scrapes and bruises. All ten men reveled in the combination of their so-called unparalleled skill and extraordinary luck. The villa they'd appropriated had several comfortable rooms and as soon as the town was deemed relatively safe, support staff came flowing in with beds and hot food. Although the notion of sleeping in a real bed appealed to all of Bucky's squad, the greater draw to their makeshift home came in the form of the well stocked wine cellar, which O'Connell and Lovitz discovered when they went down to find a safe place during shellings. Their second night found all ten men off duty and, along with Dugan's squad of just eight men, they put a hefty dent in the reserves.

A tiny part of Bucky knew it was wrong to take such gross advantage of the unknowing hospitality of the villa's owners. The town had all-but emptied when the Nazis invaded, with only a few locals choosing to stay behind. Still, Bucky's guilt only lasted long enough for Dugan to pop the first cork and pass the bottle around. They toasted to their lost and wounded men and then proceeded to play cards and drink in the cellar while the Nazis shelled the daylights out of the road and retaining wall. Bucky didn't even regret the night of revelry the next morning when he awoke with a spectacular hangover.

During the course of the evening, Nixon and Lovitz had tried to take advantage of Bucky's progressively intoxicated state. They'd tried to persuade Bucky to share tales of his romantic conquests back home and when this failed, both men turned their attention to Sadie Reid and her beautiful grey eyes. Dugan, meanwhile, waxed poetic about Sadie's friend, Evelyn, in between Lovitz's crass questions about whether Bucky ever got to play doctor whilst under Sadie's care. The conversation came to an abrupt end when Lovitz stated he wouldn't mind hearing some southern dirty talk and almost got the words about Sadie's legs out of his mouth before Meyers loudly cut him off.

"Oh shut up, Lovitz! The only way you could get a dame that pretty to talk to you at all is if you paid her!" Everyone burst into raucous laughter and the conversation moved to better topics. It saved Bucky the trouble of having to take Lovitz out back and drunkenly beat the tar out of him, something he sorely wished he could do. He even wished that Steve had been there, just to back him up. Lovitz didn't dare bring Sadie or any of the nurses up again.

Two days after a night Bucky mostly couldn't remember, the 92nd Light Armored Division rolled into Azzano, having already made a pit stop at base camp to deliver more supplies. The men not on duty hurried to the south edge of town, out of the range of fire and cheered the line of Shermans rolling up the sunny road. The 92nd LAD was an all-black division made up of three companies of three platoons with four tanks to a platoon. Bucky couldn't help but admire the way all of the men of the 92nd practically burst with pride as they entered Azzano to the roars of the men of the 107th.

Later that day, Bucky's squad, along with the rest of second platoon took its turn keeping an eye on the line. His machine gunners set up shop on the second floor of a home where the windows had been shot out. Bucky kept a close eye on the rest of his riflemen while watching for movement along the line. Their shift came and went, and while the rest of his squad went off in search of a hot meal, Bucky remained behind. All was quiet, just as he expected. As the sun started to fall, Bucky shifted his hand back into his pocket and absently toyed with the Saint Christopher's medal again. He let his thoughts drift to more pleasant places while the last rays of daylight warmed his face.

Boot fall alerted him that he was no longer alone. Turning to look over his shoulder, Bucky had expected to see Dugan or another of his friends. Instead a member of the 92nd approached, hands in his pockets.

"Nice night," he said conversationally, jutting his chin towards the tree line. "Glad I don't have to sleep out there."

Bucky nodded, one side of his mouth pulling into a grin. "Sleeping with a roof over my head, who knew that was a luxury."

The man laughed and came to lean against the same stretch of wall Bucky occupied. "It's the little things, I guess." He stuck out his hand to Bucky. "Gabe Jones."

"Bucky Barnes." The two men shook hands.

"So, that's where we're headed," said Gabe, squinting in the fading daylight as though it would help him see the tree line any better. Bucky couldn't see them, but he knew their enemy was dug into those trees, watching and waiting. Gabe's sharp brown eyes took in every detail, as though he were making a mental map of the area. When Bucky voice this opinion, the man nodded. "I'm an assistant driver, if I can actually see where we're headed ahead of time, it helps."

Bucky nodded slowly. "Makes sense. How'd you end up in an armored division?"

Gabe shrugged. "I wanted to serve my country, same as everyone else. When I went to the recruitment office the guy there said they were forming an armored division and that I'd be perfect for the job. The rest is history. You're from New York, right?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Bucky nodded. "How'd you know?"

Gabe grinned. "That accent has Brooklyn written all over it," he placed a hand to his chest to indicate himself. "Harlem."

"No kidding!" Bucky exclaimed, happy to meet another New Yorker. They fell into easy conversation from there, comparing notes on their favorite haunts in the city and the best places for live music and dancing. When Bucky's stomach growled loud enough for both men to hear they decided to head down to the makeshift field kitchen and Gabe was eager to introduce the four other men in his crew to Bucky.

As they turned away from the wall, they ducked as one. Bucky heard the sound of the mortar round just before the corner of the building on the other side of a narrow lane exploded. The impact shook the ground, causing Gabe and Bucky to both lose their balance. Sprawled out on the dusty cobblestone lane, Bucky lifted his dusty head to see several men shouting as the smoke filled the lane and small chunks continued to dislodge and fall from the exposed floors and walls of the house.

Shaking his head, Bucky tried to get some of the dust out of his hair. Gabe lifted his head and stared wide-eyed at the enormous pile of rubble before looking at Bucky. In an instant, Gabe Jones had aged from looking barely old enough for his twenty years to a man in his sixties. The dust clung to his closely cropped hair, turning it snow white. Bucky must have looked no different because at once, both men burst into laughter at their respective elderly appearances, but also at their luck. Had they left mere seconds earlier, the would have likely been buried.

Bucky clambered to his feet and held out a hand for Gabe. It was a morbid thing, laughing about a near-death experience, especially when both of them knew men who'd died that way. But, as Sadie had said to Bucky only days earlier, sometimes the only way to get through the misery was to find the humor. He palmed the Saint Christopher's medal as they walked towards the kitchens and it was some time before either man completely stopped laughing.

X X X

Although the 107th had successfully taken Azzano, a steady flow of patients kept the 80th field hospital busy night and day. Although D and F Companies held the town, the rest of the 107th was holding the line dug into the countryside and was faring far worse. Late afternoon on the fourth day gave way to evening and as the 107th hunkered down for a long night defending the countryside, there was a lull in the flow of incoming patients. Members of the hospital staff started taking breaks in shifts to eat, clean up, or just to sit for the first time all day. Some of the hospital staff lay on the cool grass in the aisles between tents, soaking up the last warmth of the day and to breathe in the clean air. Inside the ward tents, the air quickly became stale and heavy with the sickly sweet stench of blood and old sweat. Even a handful of gulps of fresh air could make a difference in the physical and mental state of the staff members.

Sadie had dragged herself out of the first ward tent at the same time Ruthie Lafferty left the second ward tent. Both women took time to splash cold water on their faces and scrub their hands clean before searching out food. Although Sadie would have loved for a hot meal, she and Ruthie both stuck with cold k-rations, too afraid that a square meal would put them straight to sleep. They spent the remainder of their hour long break lounging in the grass, resting their aching feet and backs. Neither woman dared to take off her combat boots or even unroll their sleeves just in case another wave of wounded hit the hospital.

At the end of their hour, Sadie let Ruthie help her back to her feet. She rubbed her aching left side and headed back into the tent, awake and refreshed just enough to get through the remainder of her shift. Upon coming inside, she relieved one of the replacement nurses, Lucy Tisdale. The round-faced, plump brunette nearly cried with relief and she all but crawled outside.

In fact, the two other replacement nurses in the first ward tent looked as though even a feather-light push would send them tumbling to the ground. Marjorie looked visibly grey while she gently sponged the sweat off a patient's forehead as he rested. The other replacement, whose name eluded Sadie, slumped against the support pole as she made notes on a patient's chart. Both women had already had their breaks but came back just as exhausted as they'd been.

"No endurance whatsoever," chided Evelyn as she came up to Sadie bearing a fresh apron. Sadie slipped the top loop over her head and wrapped the ties back around her waist.

"Give them a break, Evie. It's been a really long few days. I bet we were just as tired at the end of our first week."

"Sadie, I don't think either of us have been fully rested since we got to Sicily," Evelyn said, pushing back in one of the bobby pins that had wormed its way out of her simple up do. Both women made their way to two men awaiting treatment for minor wounds. At last they'd come to the men at the bottom of the triage pole, men who needed simple treatments, stitches for minor wounds, non-emergent blood transfusions and the like.

Sadie chose not to answer as she reviewed her patient's chart and then ordered a technician to bring her the supplies she'd need to stitch up the gash in his right hand. The fresh dose of morphine he'd received had put him in dream land, allowing Sadie to work with minimal interference, just how she liked it. Evelyn had begun treating her patient's minor burn and for a moment they worked in comfortable silence.

"He didn't come through here today, or the second ward tent. I've been asking Ruthie to keep an eye out," said Evelyn quietly.

It was a very good thing that Sadie hadn't actually been stitching. Her whole body went rigid, right to the tips of her normally limber fingers. "You did what?" She hissed, her fury bringing out the true thickness of her southern accent.

"I didn't say it was for you," said Evelyn offhandedly, as though it were no big deal that she'd asked Ruthie whether Bucky had come in wounded. "I just mentioned he was a friend of ours, I looped him in with a few other names too, so she wouldn't guess anything. Though I don't know why it's such a big secret."

Sadie wasn't quite sure whether she wanted strangle Evelyn or hide under the nearest cot out of sheer mortification. "For starters, nothing's going on, so you needn't have asked. Second, the man in question is a staff sergeant and it's against army regulations if something were going on, which it's not," she said doggedly, trying to drive the point home. "And third, it's none of your business."

She might as well have been talking to a brick wall. Evelyn snorted in unattractive laughter. "Okay, first of all you can lie to yourself, but don't lie to me. It's downright insulting. I know when you're interested in someone, you were like this first year of nursing school when Charles Easton did his damn best to get you to marry him. I still don't think your poor mother's recovered from your unwillingness to marry what is basically Arkansas royalty. Although you weren't nearly as interested in him as you are this one, I'll grant you that."

Sadie looked at the needle in her hand and considered for a brief second knocking Evelyn out and sewing her mouth shut. Silently thanking God that both of their patients were unconscious, she kept her back firmly to her friend, hoping that would be deterrent enough. Of course it wasn't. "Second, do you really think that anyone is going to discharge a nurse who is a candidate for the silver star and one of the 107th's best shots over a little romance? I figure as long as you keep it all behind closed doors what's the harm? You can get all hot and heavy with him when we get home."

By now, Sadie would have gladly given anything in the world to disappear. "Third, you're my best friend and your happiness is important to me, which makes this whole affair my business. And finally, you need to talk about it to someone. All that stewing and longing and pining for Sergeant Barnes can't be good for you."

"I am not pining," she snapped under her breath, though by now both women knew it was a blatant, truly pathetic lie.

"You know, denial really doesn't suit you," said Evelyn, amusement dripping from her voice.

Sadie began stitching her patient's hand, forcing herself to concentrate. "I hate you sometimes, I really do," she noted.

Evelyn cackled. "Feel free to hate me as much as you like. I'm having way too much fun at your expense to care."

Sighing, Sadie chose not to answer Evelyn, lest she give her more ammunition. Instead, she put all of her attention on making neat, even stitches. Often times, when the hospital was thrown into full-tilt chaos, precision fell to the wayside in exchange for clean and efficient. Sadie was happy to take the time to slow down and really put her all into her work every now and again, intent on fine-tuning her expanded skill set. Stitches required that attention to detail and by the time she tied off her surgical thread, she'd made a row of neat, evenly spaced, nearly identical stitches. But, as her attention receded from the task at hand, Sadie found herself wading back into dangerous waters.

Evelyn's comments about Bucky weren't the first she'd heard from her friend. It was difficult as it was to try and sort through her jumbled feelings without the added teasing and suggestion. Sadie knew her regard for Bucky wasn't strictly platonic, her attraction to him existed on more than just a physical level. When he was gone she found herself worrying about his safety. Often, Sadie caught herself wishing he was around just for his conversation. Waging their continual war of wits was always a highlight of her day and the more she knew about him, the more she wanted to know everything about him.

But, even then, he was still a red-blooded soldier. The ugly reality was that soldiers, even good ones, died. Even the ones that didn't die were never the same. Upon joining the Army Nursing Corps she'd promised herself no falling for soldiers, period. If something were to happen, losing Bucky her friend would be hard enough, but Sadie didn't want to endure losing him if he were something more. She refused to be like her mother, hollow and consumed by grief at the thought of losing her love. But more and more lately she'd been struggling with her previously ironclad rule in the face of meeting Bucky.

"I wish you hadn't talked to Ruthie," she said to Evelyn who she knew was still standing next to her. "You know how I feel about soldiers and I would hate for him or anyone to get the wrong impression."

Evelyn sobered instantly, the cheeky smile slipping from her face. Sadie watched her out of the corners of her eyes while she bandaged her patient's hand. "I'm sorry I crossed a line," said Evelyn softly after another moment. "I know that you didn't join the army to meet and fall in love with someone. But, honestly Sade, would it be the worst thing in the world if you did?"

No, there were infinitely worse things, thought Sadie. Her heart stung, thinking of her father and Betty. But, Sadie couldn't bring herself to say the words and instead she cleaned up her materials and gave Evelyn a tiny, forgiving smile. "Apology accepted and let's agree from here on out not to discuss it, okay?"

She left Evelyn to finish treating her burn patient. Sadie drifted throughout the ward, helping the exhausted replacement nurses through the remainder of her shift. By the time her CO came in to relieve the nurses with a smaller night staff, Sadie herself had reached a peak level of exhaustion. Upon crawling inside the tent she shared with Evelyn and Ruthie, Sadie had just enough energy to strip out of her dirty uniform and pull the pins from her hair before falling asleep.

X X X

The struggle to keep and hold the town of Azzano went on for a week. Soldiers patrolled the line in shifts while D Company's mortar teams continued shelling the daylights out of the tree line. The inconsistency between shellings was expected, and often the nighttime shellings roused Bucky from his sleep. Riflemen not patrolling the line, manning mortars and machine guns were required to stay inside as much as possible. Card games, letters from home, and the little treasures the men discovered in their makeshift homes kept them busy enough during the long hours.

Bucky tried to sleep when he could, all too happy to trade the warzone for far pleasanter places. When he wasn't asleep, he tried to keep himself busy, splitting his time between the men on his rifle squad, Dugan and the rest of his friends, and getting to know Gabe Jones and his crew. Bucky liked flitting from one group to the next and he realized for the first time in his life he had a multitude of friends from all over.

Growing up, Bucky had plenty of friends, but not what he'd call good friends. It had always been Steve and him against the world. People often had a natural, unfortunate aversion to Steve Rogers because of his size and sickly demeanor. Any popularity Steve gained in school was through Bucky and even then, people struggled with Steve's hardline morals, he was almost too perfect to be real. Bucky knew better and he'd never, ever abandon his best friend, even though it cost him the opportunity make other good friends in the process.

But, now, he had an entire network of good friends. It was hard not to bond with the men you went to war with, especially the guys of the 107th. And on the day before the 107th and 92nd were scheduled to launch an attack on the Nazis still dug into the tree line, Bucky woke with a pounding headache after having spent half the night battling Nixon, O'Connell, and Gabe in an excruciatingly long game of poker. He dragged himself out of his hard bed to splash cold water on his face and brush his teeth before tugging on a thin wool sweater over his undershirt. He was pulling on his field jacket as he walked out of the villa, destined to check if he had any mail from home before grabbing breakfast. The sun was out, but weak, its rays struggling to break through the cloud cover that had rolled in sometime last night.

As he stepped into the sunshine, he raked his fingers through his hair and looked up to see Gerald Meyers walking on one of the sidewalks across the street, looking absently at the letters in his hands. Meyers' entire family wrote him whole novels and often included extra news about the rest of the war which he always shared. Bucky raised a hand over his head to get the kid's attention.

"Hey! Meyers!" Bucky shouted.

Meyers looked up and the start of a welcoming smile pulled at his lips as the windows in the shop just to his left exploded. Two more shells exploded elsewhere and Meyers went down clutching his throat as he went. The Nazis had started their daily shelling early.

"Shit!" Bucky cried and he sprinted across the lane. He ignored the glass surrounding him as he dropped to his knees to look over Meyers' stunned face. Clutching his letters in one shaking hand, the other tried to grasp over blood that bubbled up at a grisly wound on his neck, torn open by the shrapnel that peppered his face and bit through his uniform. "Oh fuck, fuck," Bucky muttered and hurriedly reached into the bag he carried for his first aid bandage.

In an instant, the humor he'd once seen in the shellings was over. Meyers' legs twitched and he writhed, mouthing wordlessly in pain. Bucky tore open the sulfanilamide powder he carried with him and dumped the contents on the wound and Meyer's hand. He pulled his friend's hand away and blood gushed up to the surface where Bucky could see part of his artery almost completely exposed, throbbing fast and erratically. He wrapped the bandage around Meyers' neck, his hands shaking and covered in blood. Putting pressure on the wound only served to exacerbate Meyer's agony. Bucky didn't let up though, he would be damned if Meyers was going to bleed out now.

"Hold on," he said as he heard the shouts of others rushing to help. "You're gonna be fine, Meyers. Just hang on!"

 **A/N: So…there's…that.**

 **Next chapter picks up where we leave off and features a big Bucky/Sadie moment!**

 **Anyway – liked the chapter, but sort of hate me right now? Tell me all about it. Please leave some love, thoughts, questions, you name it- I'd love to know! Much love – Kappa.**


	13. Mixed Signals and Mistakes

**A/N: Hey all! I bring you Chapter 13 in all its messy glory. A few notes – I took a few liberties on the set up a field hospital, I don't actually know what all the different tents were for and couldn't find a good answer, so a little leeway please! Also I think I got most of the details right in the opening scene, but I'm definitely no doctor so again, bear with me.**

 **Over 100 reviews! Thank you a million times over for the love, encouragement, and for pointing out my typos/errors! In my spare time I'm trying to go back and fix some errors I've caught in earlier chapters. Anyway, keep the love coming and thanks to Mopargirl1 for talking me off a ledge where this chapter is concerned**

 **Fair warning – this chapter contains the usual language, blood, and heartstring-pulling. I'm nervous about this chapter, and had a difficult time writing it, so please be kind.**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** _ **Captain America**_ **. I do own Sadie, the entire 80** **th** **Field Hospital and everyone else you don't recognize.**

 **Chapter 13 – Mixed Signals and Mistakes**

"We're almost there, Meyers," said Bucky over the rumbling jeep engine. "The doctors are gonna patch you up, just hang on."

The five mile drive from Azzano to the field hospital felt more like fifty to Bucky. While Meyers laid on the litter strapped to the back of a jeep, Bucky knelt on the backseat, keeping his hand pressed over the bandage on his wound. Already blood soaked through the thick pad and Meyers had gone pale. Pressure was the only way to prevent him from bleeding out, but that meant a considerable amount of pain on the poor kid's part. Bucky hated doing it, but he had also been unwilling to relinquish the role to anyone else, even the medic who offered to take Bucky's place.

Corporal Gerald Meyers was his rifleman, his friend, and his responsibility. Bucky couldn't often be there for the men in his squad who were injured during combat, but he could be here now and he wasn't leaving. Meyers shook under the constant pressure, his legs twitching slightly and hands shaking, still clutching his letters from home. More than once he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it at once, unable to form words through his incredible pain and shock.

The road that led from Azzano to the base camp was bumpy and Bucky feared his hand would slip every time they hit a particularly rough patch. Bucky winced as the jeep's thick tires hit a pothole in the dusty road with a jarring bang. Meyers moaned softly in pain, reaching up to grasp at anything with his free, bloodied hand. He made contact with Bucky's sleeve and held on tight, his wide eyes rolling.

"C'Mon, Meyers. Look at me," ordered Bucky. "Keep looking at me."

Meyers' blood-shot, brown eyes eventually found Bucky and lit with dim recognition. He started to move his lips again, but one shake of Bucky's head silenced him. The trees lining either side of the rough road thinned out and at last the tents of camp came into view. The driver began to slow down as the jeep rolled through the main lane of camp, destined to come to a stop right in front of the first ward tent of the 80th Field Hospital.

The morning activity in the camp eluded Bucky, his sole focus was on Meyers. The jeep pulled to a stop and the driver jumped out, yelling for a nurse. Bucky watched as a small dish-water blonde woman ducked out of the tent, a technician in tow. She ran up to the other side of the litter, her brown doe eyes wide as she took in the sight of Meyers' face, peppered with tiny glass fragments, cut up to hell.

"We need a doctor," she said as she tried to peel the bandage back to look at the wound. Blood bubbled up and she pressed it back. "Keep your hand there," she said somewhat timidly to Bucky and then looked panicked at the technician. "Where are the doctors?" She asked.

Bucky grit his teeth. Weren't the nurses all supposed to be capable? He looked around wildly for a familiar face, Sadie or Evelyn, or anyone he'd met during his previous hospital stay. And then, as though they'd heard his silent plea, the two women on his mind appeared together, walking from the women's camp towards the hospital tents.

"SADIE!" He bellowed, uncaring at his informal address and volume. "EVELYN!"

Bucky's rudeness worked. Both women halted for a grand total of a half-second to process the scene before they broke into a sprint. Sadie pulled ahead of Evelyn, her longer legs stretching far in front of her as she kicked up small clouds of dust with each stride. All of her dark hair was pinned away from her clear face which was clouded with worry. Sadie slid to a stop all but pushing the other terrified nurse out of the way.

"What happened?" She asked, automatically slipping into nurse-mode. Upon recognizing her patient, her eyes hardened to that of steel and fresh determination swept over her.

"Mortar," said Bucky.

Sadie didn't say anything else. Instead she slid her fingers beneath Bucky's hand, and put fresh pressure against the wound. Bucky pulled back and wiped his bloody palm on his pants leg. "He needs a doctor, I didn't know what to do," said the tiny nurse just as Evelyn came to a stop next to Sadie.

Evelyn looked to the technician hovering close by. "Go find Doc Holmes," she ordered sharply. "If he's in surgery then get Doctor Hanover."

The technician didn't need to be told twice. He turned on heel and took off running. Evelyn moved to one side of the litter and undid the straps, her nimble fingers working efficiently. "Sergeant Barnes, get the other side of the litter," said Sadie in a calm, collected voice. "You and Evelyn lift as one and stay as even as possible. Slow and steady or I'll lose my grip."

Bucky didn't dare question Sadie's orders. As one, he and Evelyn lifted Meyers from the jeep and carried him towards the first ward tent, Sadie walking sideways to keep her hand and eyes on Meyers. The tent was mostly quiet. The tiny nurse that followed them inside nearly came out of her skin when Sadie ordered her to put up partitions to shield them from prying eyes. Evelyn came to Sadie's side, and both women hissed as they peeled back the bandage.

"I need to locate the source of the bleeding," said Sadie in a hushed voice. "Evie hold the bandage for me?"

Evelyn nodded and they switched places, silent and efficient in their movements. Bucky hovered at Meyers' side, eyes torn between the two women working to save his life and his friend. Meyers struggled against the pain, twitching and shaking. "He's already lost so much blood" whispered Evelyn, though Bucky could hear her.

"I know," said Sadie in a desperate voice. "Where the hell is the doctor?" As she spoke, Sadie positioned herself at a better angle to see Meyers and without warning, she slid her fingers underneath his bandage. Bucky started at the sight of it.

"Corporal Meyers?" Evelyn asked. "We need you to hold as still as you can. Sarge, hold him down if you have to."

The sensation of Sadie's fingers on his raw wound must have brought on a whole new level of excruciation, because at once Meyers started to thrash. "Hold him!" Sadie said through clenched teeth. She herself put her free hand on his shoulder, rising to the tips of her toes and bearing down with all of her strength while she continued to feel out for the source of the bleeding. Blood began to trickle down Meyers neck and his eyes rolled wildly in his head.

"Sadie?" Evelyn dared to ask.

"I can't find it," said Sadie, her face screwed up with concentration. "There's so much blood and oh!" She stopped and Meyers gurgled uncomfortably. "I've got it," she said confidently.

Evelyn removed the bandage and Bucky's stomach turned. Two of Sadie's fingers plugged a hole in Meyers' neck, finally stopping the bleeding. The wound was grislier than Bucky recalled, the edges of his skin torn away by the broken glass and a shard remained buried in there. His blood was almost black it was so thick, already congealing in places. Sadie's fingers were coated in Meyers' blood, but she remained perfectly still, a statue. Her hard grey eyes remained trained on the wound, one spot in particular.

"Evie," she said slowly. "His carotid," she whispered.

Next to and just above Sadie's fingers, Bucky could see an exposed thick tube, pulsing erratically. The flesh was so thin that the blood moving through was visible, rushing in a stop-start motion. Bucky was no whiz at biology and he knew next to nothing about human anatomy, but even he knew they were treading on thin ice.

And then everything happened at once. A voice came from the other side of the partition. Bucky looked up to see a man coming around asking what was going on right when Meyers's back arched and he coughed, hard. The thin wall of his artery gave. Blood spurted out at a sharp angle, gushing with the beat of his heart. Evelyn jumped back, but Sadie caught the spray full across her face twice, spattering her from her forehead down to her shoulders. She started, fingers slipping away from the wound. Evelyn scrambled to replace her as Sadie stumbled back a step.

"Stay with us!" Evelyn shouted as the doctor hurried to try and do what he could.

Bucky held Meyers down, his voice mingling with the shouting, but it was too late. The seconds slowed to a crawl as Evelyn and the doctor worked frantically to stymy the arterial bleed. Meyers' body began to still, and the hand that still clutched his letters loosened. The envelopes fell to the ground and his eyes found Bucky's as the light left them. Through his hold, Bucky could feel his fight give out and his life drain away until he stilled completely and his glassy eyes turned up to the ceiling of the tent, unseeing in death.

"Damnit," said the doctor under his breath.

Evelyn reached up and gently closed Meyers' eyelids, drawing in a shaky breath. "Sergeant Barnes, I'm so sorry," she said.

Bucky couldn't stop staring at Meyers' face. Stunned, he slowly let up his hold on his friend. A dozen emotions rose to the surface, intertwined with Bucky's newfound sorrow and immeasurable anger. Meyers hadn't been in combat. He'd just gone to pick up letters from home. "I-you-," he tripped over his words. "You did everything you could."

"Sadie?" The doctor asked, turning his attention away from Meyers' still form.

Bucky tore his eyes from Meyers to see Sadie standing a step back, mouth open in shock. Both of her hands remained outstretched, ready to jump back in, but the whole rest of her body was rigid. For the first time ever, Bucky had a hard time looking at her normally beautiful face. Meyers' blood slashed diagonally across her forehead, nose, check, and the exposed part of her neck before ending on her uniform shirt. Her face was unreadable, staring towards Meyers, but not really seeing him at all.

"Sade," said Evelyn, breaking away to reach for her friend. "Sadie, are you okay?"

She started, as though snapped back to reality and she turned her eyes to Evelyn. At once her body began to quiver. "Sergeant, can you take Nurse Reid out of the tent?" The doctor asked Bucky in a low voice. "I don't want the other patients or staff seeing this."

Evelyn opened her mouth to argue, but Bucky, unable to bear looking at Meyers any longer, had already come around the stretcher. "If you go left out of the side entrance there'll be a small tent at the end of the aisle on the right. The water reservoir is just outside," said Evelyn in a low voice, still not quite able to let go of her friend. "And Bucky?" She said, her voice laden with knowing.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Take good care of her, okay?" Bucky swallowed hard, but nodded. He brought his arm around Sadie's shoulder and led her out of the first ward tent, all too relieved to not witness the doctor pull a sheet over Meyers' body.

X X X

Sadie's feet moved without her volition. Every other step or so she tripped over one of her feet and if not for the strong arm holding her up, she would be face down in the grass. But, Bucky held on tight to her, keeping her going forward, allowing her to put her head down. A dull roar filled the entire space between her ears, blocking out the ambient sounds of the camp and even the few words Bucky murmured to her during their seemingly endless walk. Numbness set in, weighing her down as she continued to walk along with Bucky.

And then, he was guiding her to sit down on a small stool inside a tent meant for preparing water for operations and washing up. She swayed uncertainly on the stool, steadied by Bucky's firm grip on her shoulders. Vaguely, she drank in the details of his ashen face, from his worried blue eyes to his hard mouth.

"I'll be right back," he said before snatching a large steel basin from a stack that sat atop a supply crate. Bucky strode out of the tent and seconds later, Sadie heard the water running from the tap on the reservoir.

The weak sun cast its rays through the opening of the tent, but they were isolated from the rest of the field hospital. She still wore the white apron she'd pulled from the clothes line that morning in the women's camp. Her fingers trembled almost uncontrollably as she started to undo the knot at her back. The ties came loose as Bucky returned with the basin. Upon seeing her truly pathetic attempt to remove her apron, he set the bowl down and crouched in front of her.

"Take it easy," he said and he took the ties from her. Perhaps on another occasion, having Bucky reach around her body to unwrap the ties from her waist would have caused a furious blush to bloom in Sadie's cheeks. Moreover, a tiny voice shouted that if she were in her right mind, Sadie would never have let him take the apron off for her in a thousand years. This time, however, this one time she let him. Bucky lifted the top loop over her head and turned it over a few times into a messy fold, tossing it carelessly on the small table behind him.

A stack of small hand towels stood on the table next to the basin and he took one up, dipping the whole thing in the water before wringing it out. He wiped his own hands clean before taking another towel and repeating the same process. Bucky drew up the tent's second stool so he could sit in front of her.

"You don't have to," she started to say, but he shook his head. Bucky took her wrist, holding her bloodied hand out and he began to wipe it clean, using slow and methodic strokes.

"You don't have to do everything yourself," he said, dipping the towel back in the water again. Red wisps filtered out through the basin and Sadie's lips parted softly as she watched the blood swirl and disperse. She let Bucky continue his work, thoroughly examining both sides of her hands to ensure not a trace of Meyers' blood remained.

The cold reality began to set in that Meyers was really dead. "I'm so sorry about Meyers," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky stiffened, his jaw clenching once before he relaxed again. "Me too," he admitted. "But it wasn't your fault or Evelyn's. Once the artery goes," his throat closed up, choking off his words and Sadie wished more than anything that they were anywhere else but this Godforsaken place. While Bucky began wiping the blood off her wrists, Sadie closed her eyes and imagined a lazy Sunday morning. The sound of ice cubes clinking in a pitcher of sweet tea rattled in her brain, while she pictured laying on the porch swing with her head in Bucky's lap. She wanted to feel his fingers card through her hair while he lightly teased her about whatever nonsense romance novel she was reading at the time.

After months of enduring the hell of war, Sadie suddenly couldn't bear to open her eyes and still be in Italy. But then, Bucky released her hands, squeezing them gently and Sadie opened her eyes to see him move onto a clean towel. His blue eyes followed the blood spatter down her face and she felt her cheeks heat up.

"I must look awful," she said, casting her eyes down.

But Bucky just shook his head and held the clean side of Sadie's jaw in one hand, dabbing the blood off her face with the other. The water was cool and Bucky's reassuring movements immediately soothed her ragged nerves, bringing her back to reality.

"You're beautiful," he said with such utter sincerity that he left Sadie with little doubt as to his feelings. Bucky's hand cupping her jaw was warm and achingly gentle as every so often he drew his thumb back and forth along her skin. He paused uncomfortably when he reached her neck. She unbuttoned two buttons on her shirt and pulled it off to the side, allowing Bucky to wipe the remainder of the blood from her neck and collar. She didn't miss the redness that swirled into his cheeks as he suddenly realized their intimateness of their situation. "Got it all," he said at last, setting the rag down.

Sadie buttoned her shirt back up. "You should be getting back to the front," she said, though it was the last thing she wanted.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. "I will, as soon as I know you're alright."

They were treading into dangerous waters. But Sadie's heart hadn't really stopped aching since Betty's death and she found that she couldn't keep the words bottled in any longer. "I don't know if I'll ever be alright again," she admitted in a low voice. "I'm so tired of seeing my patients suffering and I'm exhausted from working so hard only to watch them die right in front of me. I can't believe my best friend is dead," she said, her voice breaking over the words. "And I left her in that horrible place, so far away from home. I left her behind. I just, I left her there."

Bucky listened in patient silence and at some point he crossed the void to take one of her hands in his. Sadie didn't pull away, she wasn't even sure she could. "Sade, you didn't have a choice," he murmured.

"I know," she said shaking her head. "But, God, there wasn't even anything left of her to bury. And now Meyers is dead and all I can wonder is how many horrors can one person endure before they break?"

Warm fingers tipped her chin up. Bucky stared directly into her stormy eyes, face set. "You're not breaking," he said firmly. "I don't know how you do it, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met."

She simply shook her head. "Not right now, I'm not."

"Sadie, it's okay. It's only me."

It was too much. For months she'd kept her nightmares at bay and forced her emotions down as deep as they could go. Sadie had struggled privately to control her grief after Betty's death and internalized the loss of several other friends that night. The damage was finally taking its toll. Though she'd seen worse wounds and comforted men through their dying breaths, Meyers' death hit her harder than she expected. And then, to have Bucky comfort her the way only a man in love would was too much. At long last, the dam broke.

Bowing her head, she buried her face in her hands and drew in several gasping breaths. Tears brimmed over her bottom eyelids and spilled over. She sobbed freely into her hands, letting all of the bad out.

Warm arms engulfed her and a tender hand cradled her head, bringing her into a firm chest. At some point in her breakdown, Bucky had moved his stool to sit directly next to her and he gathered her up in his arms. "It's alright, Sadie," he said comfortingly. "Get it all out."

Bucky rest his chin atop her head and Sadie, uncaring for what a passerby might see, buried her face into his shoulder. She brought her one of her arms around him, holding on tight. Resting her other hand on his chest, she opened her fingers to splay across the front of his shirt, feeling the quick pace of his heart beneath her palm. They twined around one another, simultaneously drawing in and giving comfort to one another. Sadie fit perfectly into Bucky, only further confusing her already tangled feelings for him. She'd never sought comfort this way before, but now that she was in his arms, there was no place else Sadie wanted to be. An entire lifetime could pass but she would never get enough of this feeling. Sadie wanted to stay exactly as they were, but it was not meant to be.

Dropping his chin, Bucky whispered soothingly into her ear before he did something she did not expect. He kissed her temple once and then a second time. Sadie went rigid and pulled back just a fraction, her face tilting up at just the wrong angle. Bucky misread her movement as an invitation and his lips barely brushed past hers when she pulled back, suddenly quite sober.

"Sergeant Barnes, what on earth are you doing?" She asked, suddenly on her feet and on the other side of the tent.

Bucky looked remarkably like a startled deer, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. He motioned to her and then back to him. "I thought you – it just seemed like," he stuttered before wiping his hand over his face, realizing the gravity of his mistake. "Wow, did I get that wrong."

"You think?" Sadie half-shouted, torn between anger at him for being so idiotically bold and herself for not seeing it coming. How long had she known about his feelings for her? How long had she encouraged it? "One of your own men just died and after the shock I needed James Barnes, _my friend_ , and your idea of comfort is trying to kiss me?"

Bucky rose to his feet an thrust his hands into his pockets. "I misread the signal," he said, unable to meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry, but in all our weeks of friendship you haven't figured out that kissing me when I'm upset is a monumentally bad idea?" Sadie crossed her arms over her chest, mind racing to figure out where everything had gone so, so terribly wrong. "Sergeant Barnes, believe me when I say that when I want you to kiss me, you'll be the first to know!"

"Well that would have been good to know five minutes ago!" He snapped at her, an uncharacteristically ugly expression crossing his features. "Especially when you didn't seem to have a problem getting as close as you could."

Sadie spluttered in disbelief. The tips of her fingers itched to smack him right across his handsome face. A litany of progressively awful things danced on the tip of her tongue, but Sadie refused to give into her childish impulse. It was bad enough that he'd tried to kiss her, she wasn't about to make things ten times worse by getting into a massive fight. "I need to get back to the hospital and you need to get back to your men," she said coldly.

In an instant, Bucky realized he'd crossed a line. The ire drained from his face and he took a step towards her. "Sadie, I'm sorry," he said but Sadie wasn't ready to hear it. How could she have let her feelings get so out of control? The question plagued her as she turned on heel and marched out of the tent. "Sadie, wait!"

Bucky followed her into the open air, easily catching up with her as she stalked towards the first ward tent. "We can talk about all of this after you come back from the line," she said, thoughtlessly.

His hand closed over her wrist just before she disappeared into the first ward tent. "I didn't mean what I said," he said.

Sadie hovered on the edge of tears once more. "Sergeant, just please go," she all but begged.

Even Bucky Barnes knew when to take the hint. Regret instantly flooded the pit of Sadie's stomach as he took a few backwards steps. Bucky suddenly morphed from her good friend into a man who looked as though he wanted to take it all back, their friendship, his feelings, and whatever had almost been. He gave her a half-hearted goodbye before he turned his back to her and walked away, determined to find a jeep that would take return him to Azzano. Yet, Sadie suspected that he'd walk the distance if he had to, just to get away from her.

Groaning, Sadie laced her fingers behind her neck and stood in the open for another moment, trying in vain to collect herself. Once she walked inside the first ward tent, she had to put on a different face altogether. Brand new spider cracks spread across the surface of her heart. Still, she managed to do what she did best and swallowed her misery. Throwing her shoulders back, she entered the tent, not surprised in the least to find Evelyn waiting for her.

"Hey, feeling better?"

"Much," she lied, amazed that it was actually possible to feel worse than she already did.

X X X

Bucky returned to Azzano and his rifle squad with a heavy heart. Both his squad and Dugan's were waiting for him when he came back. During the drive back to town, he agonized over how to break the news. It turned out to be an unnecessary exercise, for the blood on his uniform and defeated expression said it all. Every man took the news of Meyers' death hard, he'd been one of the most likeable guys in F Company, a friend to everyone. Every time his mind circled back to Meyers, Bucky had a harder time believing he was actually dead. Several times through the remainder of the day and night, Bucky half-expected the practical joke-loving Oregonian to jump out from around a corner and shout 'just kidding!' at the top of his lungs.

But, Meyers never reappeared and the following morning, Bucky's squad joined the rest of the 107th and the 92nd in pushing the Nazi line from its position north of Azzano. The small rifle division was no match for the 92nd's Shermans and they broke relatively early into the fighting. From there, the 107th closed ranks, tightening the line and pushing their enemy through the trees and forced them to dig into the relatively unprotected hilly countryside. F Company dug in between D and E Companies, using fallen tree branches and foliage for additional cover.

In the west, the sun was rapidly sinking below the horizon. For the moment, both sides were quiet, though Bucky knew that wouldn't last long. He and Lovitz were dug into the gentle slope of a hillside, with just enough clearance to pop their rifles over the top of the hill when the time came. Lovitz had been uncharacteristically quiet since hearing about Meyers. Despite Meyers' tendency to rag on Lovitz, they'd been good friends since the start boot camp. Even now he sat perfectly still with his eyes closed and head tipped back against the side of the foxhole.

The fighting had kept Bucky's mind off Meyers for the most part, though it couldn't completely erase the constant sting. And, whether it was fortunate or not, Bucky's mind was also easily diverted from the untimely death of his friend by another problem. No matter how he looked at the situation, Bucky wasn't entirely sure that Sadie was ever going to talk to him again.

His thoughts drifted back to one of the last nights he spent in New York before shipping out, spent drinking himself into oblivion with Steve. It had been a good night, thought Bucky with the barest smile. Once he'd gotten over his apparent army-related bitterness, Steve had been in rare form, starting with some barbed observations about Bucky's love life, a favorite topic for Steve's skewering. At the time, Bucky dismissed Steve's prediction out of hand as a piece of too-romantic drivel.

" _You know what I think? I think one of these days you're going to meet a girl you can't charm and you're going to fall hook, line, and sinker for her."_

Bucky had thought Steve was full of it at the time, and while that might still remain true, he could no longer argue with his friend's scarily accurate prediction. For the first time in his life, Bucky was left scratching his head and wondering what went wrong. Not once had he misread the signals that a woman gave off when she wanted to be kissed. Hell, he thought darkly, most other girls would all but melt into his arms and nuzzle a way into coaxing him to make a move. Any other girl he'd ever dated would gladly let him kiss the daylights out of her as a form of comfort. Maybe the results weren't always that great, but at least he'd never gotten it wrong before.

But that was all before Sarah Grace Reid came along with her southern accent and blazing grey eyes. From their very first meeting, Bucky fast-learned she was not to be trifled with. His cocksure attempts at flirtation had fallen just as flat then as his disastrous attempt at a first kiss. Nearly every meeting between had devolved into a thoroughly entertaining war of their wits and Bucky craved her time almost as much as he wanted to march back into the first ward tent and kiss her until she couldn't remember her own name, much less that she was angry at him.

And yet, despite having some measure of romantic feelings for Bucky, Sadie remained completely and utterly immune to his particular brand of charm. Bucky couldn't explain it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to try; all he knew was that Steve was right. Somewhere along the way, he'd fallen head over heels in love with Sadie Reid and all of her peculiar quirks and challenges. He loved every little thing about her from her bright smile all the way to her headstrong nature. If Bucky was being honest with himself, a miniscule part of him even loved that she rejected his poorly timed advance, choosing instead to call out the error in his ways.

Steve's words continued to plague him. Bucky hated admitting that Steve was right, because it usually meant he was dead wrong. And his best friend had never been more spot on before, and he didn't even know it. Already, Bucky dreaded Steve's patented superior and smug 'I told you so' expression, which he knew would be waiting for him back home.

 _"Just you wait, she's gonna strike you like lightning"_ Steve had said.

Crossing his arms moodily over his chest, Bucky stared resolutely up at the darkening sky. "Lightning?" He muttered savagely to himself. "Try the whole damn thunderstorm plus a tornado."

"What was that?" Lovitz asked, cracking one eye open.

"Nothing, go back to sleep," Bucky said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Bucky couldn't believe that all it took to turn his life upside down was a brunette southern belle with an unconventional streak a mile-wide. Often, he'd wondered how many hearts she unwittingly broke just by being her unassuming self. That she'd let Bucky in seemed to be a small miracle, if the words of her friends were anything to go by. But Bucky adored her unabashed preference for her work over potential suitors. He had long-admired her ability to remain cool and collected even in the face of the worst of situations, even if it caused her to react harshly to any attempt at comfort and consolation.

He thought that together they could be something really special. Bucky imagined taking her around Brooklyn, showing her off to his old school friends and introducing her to his family. More than once he wondered how well she and Steve would get along, hoping that their mutual interest in teasing him mercilessly would provide an easy path to friendship. Bucky planned out dates in his mind and had formulated arguments for why a country girl would love living in a big city. He wanted to know what it felt like to fall asleep in her arms and wake up next to her along everything that came in between. For the first time in his life, Bucky could easily see himself happily resigning his role as a bachelor, especially if it meant coming home to her unique brand of southern comfort.

That is, if he hadn't royally and irreversibly screwed it up. He'd been trying to decide how on earth he was going to apologize to Sadie when they were five miles apart, and would be for the foreseeable future. He couldn't very well just go back whenever he pleased; plus he suspected that Sadie had zero desire to see him so soon after their fight.

This particularly bleak thought led Bucky back to the question he'd been asking himself for the better part of two days now. What the hell had he been thinking? If the situation hadn't been so emotional, he never would have tried to kiss Sadie. Yet, it had been impossible to avoid the urge when she lifted her gaze to reveal her mercurial eyes, swimming with tears. Bucky would challenge any man to stare into Sadie's fathomless eyes and not want to kiss away every ounce of her pain.

And it had been a big mistake; a huge, monumental, unbelievable mistake. Bucky wouldn't soon forget how easily she slipped out of his arms and shot across the small tent. If Steve had seen the whole debacle he would have laughed himself hoarse. The infamous, handsome and perfectly charming Bucky Barnes striking out with a beautiful woman? Well, that had to be one for the record books.

"But she said 'when'," Bucky reminded himself under his breath. "She said 'when I want you to kiss me.'"

That single word made all the difference in the world. Unknowingly, she'd implied the possibility of a future where Bucky wouldn't get flat-out rejected. 'When' kept his hopes alive. It suggested that despite all present evidence to the contrary, Sadie actually did want to kiss him. And for the moment that was enough for him.

An idea came to him and he smacked Lovitz's shoulder. "Hey," he said under his breath. "You got anything to write on? And a pen?"

Lovitz snorted. "Do I look like a goddamn stationary store to you?" He asked.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You're useless. Just keep your eye on the line," he muttered and got out of their foxhole. Keeping low, Bucky jogged back towards Frank O'Connell's foxhole, he came from a big Irish family and was always writing letters home.

"Psst, Frank, can I have a sheet of paper and a pen?"

O'Connell immediately dove into his musette bag and produced the items in question. "Sure, Sarge, what's up?"

"Just need to send a quick note back to base camp," he muttered and crouched down. Bucky tipped an ammo box on its side and laid the paper out flat. The words came surprisingly quickly to him, in what he hoped was a sincere and amusing apology that even Sadie would accept. As soon as he finished, Bucky folded the note, tossed the pen back to Meyers and ran to the back of the line.

It was his lucky day. A runner had just clambered into a jeep, bound for base camp. "Hey!" Bucky shouted, waving and arm over his head.

"What's up, Sergeant?" The runner asked.

Bucky held the note out to him, folded neatly with Sadie's name written across the front. "Can you deliver this to Nurse Sadie Reid in the first ward tent at the hospital? Tell her it's from Sergeant Barnes."

If the runner thought the request was unusual or inappropriate, he didn't let it show. Instead he slipped the note in his front pocket. "Sure thing, buddy," he said.

Bucky watched the jeep disappear before the sound of gunfire jolted him back to reality. The Nazis had opened fire on them again. Cursing, he checked his helmet before swinging his rifle back around his body. Through the gaps in the trees, Bucky could see a line of Panzers advancing forward. As he dashed past other foxholes, he heard the first screams for a medic. He threw himself back into the foxhole he shared with Lovitz, bracing himself against the edge and raising his rifle to fire.

"Don't these fuckers have anything better to do than shoot at us!" Lovitz yelled between rounds.

"Doesn't look like it!" Bucky shouted back.

Neither man knew that the longest night of their lives was only just beginning.

X X X

Ruthie and Sadie had a night off for the first time in she couldn't count how long. When the 92nd Light Armored Division rolled through base camp, they'd brought with them a handful of extra technicians that allowed each of the nurses a handful of extra, very precious hours of freedom. Both women made a pact that they would ignore the jeeps and ambulances for the night and took it as an opportunity to hand wash their clothes, then take turns washing each other's hair before turning in for a full night's sleep.

There was just enough daylight left for Sadie to wash Ruthie's hair. Her own dark hair hung over her shoulder, a wild mess of half-wet curls. Their steel helmets sat upside down in little pits they'd dug in the grass, both of them full of water. Ruthie stood on her knees, bent forward. Sadie wrapped a towel around Ruthie's shoulders, tucking one corner tightly over the other.

"Ready?" Sadie asked.

Ruthie nodded. "Do your worst."

Sadie picked up one of the helmets and poured half of the water over Ruthie's head. "Lord have mercy!" Ruthie exclaimed with a shiver. "That's colder than the Wapsipinicon River in January!"

"I have absolutely no idea what that means," said Sadie with a laugh as she began lathering soap into Ruthie's hair. "But it sounds pretty cold!"

"Oh yeah," agreed Ruthie, her Minnesota accent coming on strong. "Ice cold!"

Sadie didn't reply, she just smiled and continued to scrub Ruthie's scalp. Simple pedestrian tasks like washing a friend's hair had become borderline therapeutic for Sadie. For a brief period, she could escape the hospital and return to the life she'd had before the war. When she was hanging laundry to dry in her tent or taming her curls while gossiping about the doctors, Sadie could pretend that she was just an ordinary girl with ordinary troubles, even if she stubbornly refused to admit to her friends that something was troubling her. Embarrassed didn't even begin to cover how Sadie felt in the wake of her fight with Bucky and his failed attempt to kiss her. Evelyn and Ruthie both suspected something happened, but neither woman dared broach the subject, they knew all too well Sadie's stance on the matter. But, while Evelyn settled with making veiled references to Bucky, Ruthie took a different approach and ignored it altogether.

"You know what I keep thinking about?" Ruthie asked as Sadie poured another round of water over her mousy brown hair.

"What?" Sadie asked, only half-paying attention.

"What color I'm going to paint my fingernails when we get home."

Sadie's lips quirked up in a small smirk. "Really?"

"Well, my Ma never let me paint my nails. She said wearing nail polish and makeup is just a means of drawing unwanted male attention."

Well, Sadie hadn't expected that. "Tell your mother to never go down south. She'd probably faint."

Ruthie giggled. "I'll do that."

"So you've really never painted your nails before?" Sadie asked as she wrung Ruthie's hair out, checking for any missed soap suds.

"Nope. But you know what? I'm going to start when we get home. What's the worst my Ma can do?"

"Not much, I suppose. After all you've been to war, so you've earned the right. May I suggest coral red? I think it'd look lovely with your complexion."

Their conversation rapidly devolved as Sadie began to towel dry Ruthie's hair before helping her comb it out. By now the sun was halfway gone and just as both women began to clean up, a young man came jogging towards them. He waved a hand over his head and paused long enough ensure he had permission before entering the women's camp.

"Excuse me! But is one you gals Nurse Sadie Reid?" He asked, breathless as he finally reached them.

Sadie furrowed her brow. What did a runner want with her? "I am," she said. "Why?"

The runner dug into his shirt pocket and produced a folded piece of white stationary paper. "A Sergeant Barnes asked me to deliver this to you."

Blood swirled into her cheeks and Sadie silently thanked God that Evelyn wasn't here to witness this particular moment. Ruthie watched, hovering uncomfortably next to her. The runner held the folded paper out to her. On the front, Sadie could see her name scrawled in slanted, but surprisingly legible handwriting. With no other choice, Sadie took the note. "Thanks, Corporal," she said and just as he started to turn away, the question tumbled out before she could stop it. "Did he say anything else?"

"No ma'am, just asked me to find you and deliver that."

The runner tipped his head towards both women and then left. Awkward silence settled over Sadie and Ruthie as they stared at the note. "I would really appreciate it if," but Ruthie cut Sadie off.

"I won't tell Evie. Lord knows she's done enough speculating as it is. I'm not about to make it worse."

Sadie thanked her lucky stars for Ruthie Lafferty. Resting her head against Ruthie's shoulder, Sadie nodded. "Thanks."

"So, are you going to read it?" Ruthie asked.

"No," she said, surprising even herself. All she'd been able to think about was their almost-kiss. Sadie had repeatedly gone back and forth over whether she was right to reject Bucky. It seemed half of her righteously felt his actions were out of line while the other half desperately wished she'd kissed him back, stopping only coming up for air. Trying to figure out her own feelings had been difficult enough. Adding what she was certain was some cleverly worded apology to the mess wouldn't make matters any less confusing.

Fortunately, for Sadie, Ruthie didn't argue. Sadie turned the note over once in her hands before she retreated to her tent, carefully tucking it away next to her letters and pictures from home. She would read it when she wasn't still so angry, when she was ready. Sadie gladly let Ruthie divert her attention by talking more about nail polish and makeup, even going so far as asking Sadie to teach her how to do winged eyeliner. She fell asleep thinking about lipstick colors, but wound up dreaming about Bucky. Only this time around, she didn't pull away when he leaned in to steal her lips with his.

X X X

The following morning dawned grey and watery. Only a small wave of wounded had come into the hospital during the night and Sadie spent most of her morning following up with new patients and taking care of her own. She sat on a stool next to a young man from B Company, holding a bowl of truly terrible oatmeal in her hands, courtesy of the field kitchen. Both of her patient's hands were wrapped in tight bandages, and one of his arms lay in a cast, an unfortunate byproduct of a shell burst that hit a fraction too close.

"Did you ever think you'd be spoon feeding a handsome guy like me when you joined up?" The kid asked, waggling his thick eyebrows humorously at her.

"No," she said in a friendly tone. "They told me all the guys I'd have to help feed were all really ugly."

The young private laughed, dark brown eyes twinkling. "Just do me a favor and don't tell my girl, alright? She can get a bit jealous."

Sadie raised the spoon back to the private's mouth. He dutifully took the mouthful and made a face as he swallowed. "I won't tell if you don't," she promised.

"Deal," he said, a good-natured grin coming back to his face. "Can't say I want to send my compliments to the chef. Where'd they dig these guys up?"

Sadie shrugged and switched from the oatmeal to the kid's canteen, holding a towel beneath his chin to catch any runoff. They continued through the morning routine, and Sadie enjoyed the relative quiet that settled over the first ward tent. Just as she neared the bottom of the oatmeal bowl, she heard shouting outside of the tent. The clamor was incredible, causing the staff to stop dead in their tracks and the patients to raise their heads one-by-one.

"I wonder what's going on," she muttered.

"Go check it out," said her patient encouragingly. "Go on! I'm probably better off without those last spoonfuls anyways."

Sadie hesitated, but gave in. "We're not finished," she said and got up, bumping into Evelyn as she did.

Taking Evelyn's hand, Sadie led them to the entrance of the tent. "Oh my God," said Evie, echoed Sadie's immediate shock.

Dozens of men were staggering through the center of base camp. Sadie covered her mouth to hide the horror on her face as she and Evelyn darted into the lane. The men who could walk supported their wounded comrades, hobbling slowly. In the distance, Sadie could see only six or seven Shermans trundling along, laden with injured men. One detail did not escape Sadie. On every single face she saw the same shell-shocked, blank expression.

"What's going on?" Evelyn asked, looking wildly in every direction.

Sadie didn't even know where to start. Through a gap in the crowd a familiar face came into her line of sight. "Come on," she said and tugged Evelyn forward.

She'd only met Corporal Douglas Lovitz once, but he'd left a lasting impression. Stumbling forward, half-blind, Lovitz muttered under his breath. Sadie reached him just in time, trying to get her shoulder beneath his arm as he crumpled. Lovitz dragged her down to the ground, tipping sideways into her shoulder. Sadie brought her arm around him, holding him steady while she gently patted the side of his face.

"Corporal Lovitz?" She asked in a clear, commanding tone. "Corporal, what happened?"

An open gash near his hairline continued to ooze thick blood, smeared over his eyelid and into his hair. "They came out of nowhere," he said, staring wide-eyed at her. "Blew the Nazis to hell and turned their guns on us."

"Who did?" Sadie asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Evelyn intercepted another man who wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck, sobbing unrestrainedly. Fear settled deep into the pit of Sadie's stomach. Over Lovitz's head she began to look for Bucky, not even bothering to hide her concern.

"I don't-I don't know," said Lovitz before he pressed a hand over his face as it broke. He began to weep. "The guys next to me were just gone. They just – there was fucking nothing left of them."

Sadie brought her hand to the side of his head and guided him to rest against her shoulder, unsure of what else she could do to soothe his panic. "Where is everyone else?" She asked.

But Lovitz didn't hear her, he kept barreling on. "Guys I knew in basic, the ones who didn't die or get away, those bastards lined them all up and," his voice fell away, too overcome to continue.

Sadie's veins turned to ice. The fear morphed into full-blown panic. Men crowded towards the ward tends and their faces blurred together. In the chaos, Sadie couldn't see the only face she wanted to see, the only face that mattered. Her heart clenched so tightly in her chest, she couldn't breathe.

"Where's Sergeant Barnes?" She asked. Lovitz stopped sobbing and lifted his head to look directly at her. The hopelessness and terror in his eyes was scarier than any wound Sadie had seen. "Corporal, Where's Bucky?"

Lovitz opened his mouth and closed it again. When he did speak, he said only one word and it turned Sadie's whole body to stone.

"Captured."

 **A/N: So…yeah…I feel like maybe I should hide? In all fairness, Sadie has always been a half-step behind Bucky where her feelings are concerned, give her time, she's going to get there.**

 **So I know some of you were expecting the nurses to be captured with Bucky & Co. I went back and forth repeatedly on whether to have Sadie be captured and ultimately decided against it for a three primary reasons. First, the focus of Bucky's rescue is his reunion with Steve and Steve taking up the mantle of Captain America. If Sadie were captured, the focus automatically shifts from Steve and Bucky's friendship to Bucky's concern for Sadie and dilutes Steve and Bucky's relationship, which I don't want to do. Further, it relegates Sadie to the role of damsel in distress, which I have tried my best to avoid. Second, I need Sadie at base camp to anchor that side of the story, including Steve's arrival. And third, quite simply put, absence makes the heart grow fonder. **

**Let me know what you think! I love reading your feedback. Much love – Kappa.**


	14. Birdcages and Nightmares

**A/N: I could give you the laundry list of excuses for why this chapter took so long to post but it boils down to two things: 1) this chapter was, inexplicably, unbelievably difficult for me to write and 2) S &B is quite the undertaking and I simply needed a short break from writing it. That being said, I'm fairly happy with how this chapter came out – it's a little bit slower but next chapter picks back up with the action. **

**Also, holy crap – this story is at almost 140 reviews, nearing on 200 faves and 300 likes. I am blown away by your incredible responses. Thank you a million times over. Apologies in advance for any typos!**

 **Finally – during my short break from S &B, I started writing a six-part AU featuring Bucky and Sadie called **_**The Old College Try**_ **. As the name suggests, it's a college AU that is decidedly funnier, fluffier and all around lighter than S &B. So, if you too want a brief reprieve from the period-drama of S&B then please go read it! Part one is up now!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** _ **Captain America**_ **, but if I did….oh…if I did…**

 **Chapter 14 - Birdcages and Nightmares**

 _I told you so_.

For the past forty-eight hours, it was all Peggy could do to keep from saying these words to Colonel Phillips. In fact, she didn't just want to tell Phillips _I told you so_ , she wanted to shout it at the top of her lungs until she was hoarse. Peggy wanted skywriters to spell the phrase across the endless blue skies while she stood atop Howard Stark's private plane, yelling into a megaphone so everyone in the entire base camp could hear her. If she couldn't get airplanes, then she'd settle for a marching band storming through the main aisle of camp, carrying an enormous banner bearing the phrase in big bold letters. There weren't enough ways she could think of to get the message across loud and clear.

The phrase _I was right and you were wrong_ came in second on Peggy's list of things she wanted to inform Colonel Phillips of, followed immediately by _maybe you should listen to me more often_ and _men are insufferable idiots_. Sadly, Peggy found she had to swallow her words and keep her thoughts to herself. No matter how sorely Phillips deserved it.

Even then, Peggy knew that belittling her superior wouldn't change the dire circumstances one iota. At the end of the day, the 107th was decimated, with two hundred men either killed or captured. The men had, just as Peggy predicted, walked right into an expertly laid trap from start to finish. HYDRA's grand plan had gone off without a hitch, from obliterating their supposed Nazi allies right down to reducing the handful of battle-hardened survivors into unmitigated, traumatized disasters. Their hollow eyes and gaping mouths continued to haunt Peggy two days later.

From the limited details the SSR managed to gather from the remaining men of the 107th, the battle had been furious and nothing short of horrific. The weapons described seemed impossible but she'd heard the same utterings multiple times. One second soldiers were there, firing on the impenetrable tanks and the next they were gone, completely vaporized into nothing. It wasn't possible, and yet, Peggy didn't doubt for a second that Schmidt had successfully created the world's deadliest weapons. How he'd done it, however, remained to be seen and those answers would just have to wait.

Peggy was far more concerned with how the bruised and beaten 107th was going to possibly rescue its own men from certain death. The debate raged on for two days straight now, going back and forth between possible rescue options, covert missions, new intelligence reports, and Phillips' stubborn insistence that this wasn't something any of them could have seen coming.

On the morning of the third day, Peggy was at her wit's end.

She stood beneath the large tent that Phillips used as his center of operations, hand covering her deep scowl as she stared at the large map of the area. Reconnaissance photos of the factory laid along the edges of the map, held down by paperweights. The pictures all showed the same heavily fortified base, a Fort Knox of barbed wire, guard towers, and concrete walls. Further, the compound was larger than anyone expected and it was anyone's guess where the men were actually being kept, much less what was happening to them within its confines. Howard feared forced labor, Phillips was convinced they'd been lined up on a wall and shot, while Peggy could only imagine what experiments Schmidt might put them through.

The sound of footfall broke Peggy from her reverie. "Good morning," said Howard as he trudged into the area, a tin cup of coffee in his hand. Personally, Peggy couldn't think of a single good thing currently happening but she let the thought go. "Come up with any brilliant ideas during the night?"

"No," said Peggy with a long sigh. "Did you?"

Howard sipped his coffee and made a sour face. Muttering something about the army coffee tasting like bullshit warmed over, Howard set the mug down and came to stand next to her. "Not a damn thing. Just like the night before."

Absent some earth shattering idea from Howard, Peggy knew that they were doomed to repeat the same series of arguments they'd gone through repeatedly for the past two days. Someone would start with the suggestion of sending patrols to get the lay of the land and find a way in, which led to a discussion on a full scale assault. The argument would then turn to the possibility of air raids or dropping in paratroopers, which inevitably led to Colonel Phillips shouting everyone down.

The army wasn't going to send any more troops to Azzano and that was the bottom line. The battle had been an unqualified disaster and the Army tended not to dwell on its failures. On top of it, the SSR's name was rapidly being reduced to less than the dirt that Peggy stood on. First, there was Erskine's death and then loss of the super soldier formula. Now, the 107th, an elite rifle division had been almost wiped off the map. No, the Army wasn't going to throw any more money or resources down a gaping hole. The SSR, 107th, 92nd, and 80th field hospital were alone with less than a dozen tanks, dwindling ammunition, and facing an enemy they couldn't beat.

Peggy didn't want to admit it, she hated even thinking it, but the possibility of a rescue was looking more and more hopeless with each passing hour.

"New surveillance flight photos," said Colonel Phillips gruffly as he entered the tent. He slapped the photos down on top of the map of the area, barking at an orderly to get him coffee as he did. Peggy and Howard reached for the photos at the same time.

"Anything good?" Howard asked, eyes pouring over the fuzzy details in the black and white picture.

"No activity," said Phillips. "No sign of our boys, just a whole bunch of trucks sitting in a yard and spotlights combing the woods in every direction."

"So they're anticipating us making a move," said Peggy, her lips tugging into a scowl. The use of spotlights was a new tactic though not a particularly surprising one. Now that HYRDA had the upper hand they'd shown very little concern for hiding their location. Surveillance planes flew in from different directions and rarely encountered enemy fire along the way.

"Looks that way," said Phillips as he took a seat at his desk.

Howard handed his photographs to Peggy who examined them closer. "That compound is huge, our guys could be anywhere."

"Likely underground," said Peggy distractedly. "HYRDA wouldn't want them in a place where they could easily escape through a window or get a message outside."

"Yeah, and they're probably kept under armed guard day and night," said Phillips gruffly. "And to top if off I heard from Battalion HQ this morning. The Army won't send reinforcements or paratroopers to storm the place, not after the reports the surviving platoon leaders turned in."

Peggy's heart and stomach sank. She'd been expecting the news, but hoped against all hope that the Army would come through for them, for those poor men. "So, now what? Are we to attempt any kind of rescue at all? Are we going to leave them to die at HYDRA's hands?"

Howard immediately looked away from Peggy and even Phillips squirmed slightly beneath her harsh gaze. The Colonel recovered quickly. "Chances are they're already dead."

He turned away from her as he spoke. Though his words were harsh, Peggy could hear his displeasure. More than once through this ordeal Peggy had to remind herself that Phillips cared deeply for his soldiers, even if he had a terrible way of showing it. "I refuse to believe that!"

"We could try another surveillance flight, I could take my plane and get a little lower. Maybe we're just flying in from the wrong directions?" Howard started but was cut off by Phillips.

"No sense in risking your hide over this. Battalion HQ had ordered us to hold our position for the time being until arrangements can be made for our transfer."

Tears stung Peggy's eyes. This was all wrong! "There must be something we can do."

"And how would you propose going about it Agent Carter? Do you want to take the fifty men we've got and march on a heavily fortified HYDRA factory that's making God knows what to rescue a bunch of men who are probably already dead? Because I'm sure as hell not signing an extra fifty condolence letters."

Phillips could have slapped her across the face and it would have hurt less. Suddenly feeling less than a foot tall, she took a step back. "No, sir," she said softly.

"That's what I thought. The best we can do is send regular patrols to hold the line and pray to God we get out of this mess without losing anyone else."

Howard wiped his face with his hands, but the despair in his eyes mirrored what Peggy felt. He reached out and squeezed her elbow and for the first time Peggy was glad Howard was there. "Yes, sir. I'll go have a word with what's left of the 107th's command."

"That's an excellent idea, Agent Carter."

Phillips did not look up from his papers as he spoke but Peggy knew a dismissal when she heard it. Biting the inside of her mouth hard enough to draw blood, Peggy turned on heel and marched out of the tent.

X X X

A continuous stream of water dribbled from somewhere near Bucky. The drops fell with irritating consistency, to the point that he began to count the passing seconds with each drop. Drip, drop, drip, drop, on and on until his irritation became so overpowering that Bucky thought he might literally explode. Then again, he was beginning to think that spontaneous combustion was a better alternative to the hell he was currently experiencing. Dugan had said it best only a few hours earlier when he spoke with longing for the _Queen Victoria_.

Bucky wholeheartedly agreed with his friend. That godforsaken troop ship seemed like the Waldorf Astoria compared to the cell he currently shared with ten other men. The other guys called the round cells birdcages, an apt description considering the high ceilings. Clustered in a long hall with almost no exposure to sunlight or fresh air, the entire space reeked of sweat, body odor and other foul things Bucky didn't even want to think about. Their only saving grace came when, occasionally, the doors opened and a draft of cold air rushed through the room, sweeping some of the stench away and cooled down the room. They slept on hard floors with only a thin blanket and their daily ration didn't even equal a single K Ration. He'd long since given up the hope of any kind of fair treatment because his captors clearly didn't give a rat's ass about fair treatment.

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

Twenty…

Fifty…fifty-one…fifty-two…fifty-something. Bucky lost count of the drops of water while he sat against the cool metal bars with his head back and eyes closed. Both of his knees were drawn near his chest and he'd pushed the sleeves of his olive wool sweater over his forearms. Every so often one of the men near him would shift, desperate to get comfortable. Bucky's backside had gone numb about half an hour before which suited him perfectly fine. The edges of the Saint Christopher's medal dug into the palm of his hand.

Dugan slouched on the floor to his right, bowler hat tipped over his face. O'Connell sat cross-legged on his left, staring listlessly at his lap. The only other man Bucky knew in the cell was Gabe Jones and the other surviving member of his tank crew, Earl Every. It had taken the better part of two days, but Dugan and Bucky had managed to put together a rough picture of who of F Company was in with them, who had gotten out alive, and who died. Lovitz and McAllister had made it out. They were among the last of the men Bucky had seen make it safely through the tree line while he was being forced to his knees by some jackass soldier wielding the most terrifying weapon Bucky had ever seen.

Both he and Dugan had been privately mourning the death of John Nixon, and more specifically the fact that he had been reduced to nothing more than vapor. If Meyers' death had hit Bucky hard, Nixon's death was an equally rough blow for Dugan. Nixon was his best friend in the Company. Their rifle squads were both depleted and scattered beyond their control now. It was all Bucky or anyone could hope that the 107th would find a way to rescue them.

He wasn't particularly optimistic.

O'Connell coughed into his closed fist and Gabe shifted uncomfortably from across the cell. Bucky watched some of the other strangers in his cell with growing curiosity. Upon the 107th and 92nd's arrival, nobody had been particularly keen on exchanging names and pleasantries. Everyone wanted to know where they were and what the hell was going on. It had become readily apparent the next morning when they were forced into a single-file line to work on an enormous factory floor, assembling small parts of what Bucky could only imagine was a larger machine.

But now, after two days and nights of misery, he started to wonder who his cell mates were. From their uniforms he recognized one man from the U.S. Army and a man from the British Army, but the other uniforms escaped him. The Brit had a thick mustache and still wore his red beret. His eyes were open and flickered occasionally to Bucky. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him.

"How long have you been in here?" Bucky asked. Dugan gave a grunt and tipped his bowler hat up.

"About two weeks, I think," said the Brit, his smooth accent cutting through the stale air. Bucky pulled a sympathetic face. After two days he was already coming unhinged, he couldn't imagine two weeks. "We all came in around the same time," he explained, casting his eyes to his companions. He then held his hand out. "James Falsworth."

Bucky's back and shoulders groaned as he leaned forward to shake the man's hand. "Bucky Barnes." He pointed to Frank and Dum Dum. "This is Frank O'Connell and Dum Dum Dugan."

Bucky dug an elbow into O'Connell's side, prompting the kid to look up and then shake Falsworth's hand.

"Quite the setup you guys got here," said Dugan in a too-casual tone.

Falsworth chuckled. "Afternoon tea service is a bit spotty, but it's home," he agreed dryly. It turned out the remainder of their cell-mates were all from different armies in the Allied Forces and came from all over the world. Most of the men slept through the conversation except for Jim Morita, from the Army Rangers and Jacques Dernier, a French Resistance fighter who didn't speak a word of English.

Much to the dismay of Bucky and his companions, their cell-mates knew next to nothing about where they were, what they were building, and if anyone was looking for them. Falsworth and Morita spoke in hushed voices about what little they did know, pausing occasionally when a guard drew too close or walked directly over the open ceiling of the cage. Out of the corner of Bucky's eyes, he took note of the unusual side-arms each guard carried along with a long night stick. Already he knew too well that the guards were unafraid to display their dominance. Only that morning he'd seen the guards viciously beat a man from another company in the 107th simply because he was lagging on the factory floor. A thought then occurred to Bucky.

"D'you know what's at the end of the main aisle on the factory floor?" He asked, recalling seeing the guards drag the man's unconscious and bleeding body through a set of large double doors at the far end of the factory.

Falsworth and Morita shared dark looks. "What is it?" Gabe's voice echoed uncertainly as he spoke.

"We aren't completely certain," Falsworth began, hesitance clinging to his voice. "But there's a man here, a scientist who often prowls along the catwalks and watches us work."

O'Connell scowled as he sat up a little higher, rubbing his right side. "What's he watching for?"

Boot fall rattled the metal platform overhead. Morita and Falsworth raised their eyes warily to the sight of a guard pausing over the top of their cage. The guard's face was entirely obscured, making him look all the more menacing as he smacked the end of his night stick into his opposite palm. "You lot down there! Shut the fuck up!" He snarled.

As one, the men dropped their heads. Bucky's eyes darted to each of his companions. Dugan and Gabe seemed entirely unconcerned by the guard's nastiness whereas O'Connell became even more pale than he had been. Across the way, Morita mumbled a handful of colorful words under his breath while Falsworth steadied him by the shoulder. Finally, the guard walked away to harass another cage.

"I don't know what he's looking for, but I've seen him go in and out of those doors before," said Falsworth hurriedly. "And the men who go back there never come out."

X X X

Two weeks passed.

The weather turned in the fourteen days since the remainder of the 107th and 92nd hobbled back to base camp bruised and beaten. As mid-October passed into early November, the crisp air cooled and brought the rains with it. All of the 107th's extra tents were erected to provide extra shelter for the men, their gear, and for the daily activities of camp. A supply drop brought much needed warm weather clothing, bolstering what little the camp previously had. Extra blankets provided additional warmth to the hospital's patients and kept Sadie's teeth from chattering as she tried to sleep at night.

All of the camp's thoroughfares transformed into mudslides under the steady hammer of the weather, which left a solid shell around the soles of Sadie's boots. The nurses hung their belongings from the support poles in their tents and donned headscarves as they worked. Sadie, who hated being cold, wore her field jacket around the clock and added a wool sweater when the temperatures plummeted during the first days in November. The cumbersome garments limited her movement, but these days dexterity wasn't much of an issue.

Day after day she came into the first ward tent still half-expecting a wave of screaming wounded men. Walking into a silent tent was far more jarring and, in Sadie's opinion, much worse. Though the beds remained full, none of Sadie's patients were in need of surgery, stitches, or emergent care. Some wounds never required anesthetic or bandages; but, psychological wounds were just as horrific as physical and much harder to heal. Nothing pained Sadie more than seeing what she'd seen in so many faces in the two weeks following the 107th's capture. It wasn't until she'd looked directly into a man's eyes that Sadie understood some things were worse than death.

A chill slipped down her spine, snapping Sadie out of her reverie. She shook her head once and tore her eyes away from the rain that poured outside of the large supply tent she occupied. The wood platform beneath her chair creaked with each small movement she made. In her hands she held a partially folded sheet. Somewhere in the middle of folding, she'd lost her train of thought and wound up staring out into the storm. It hadn't been the first time this happened and she was sure it wouldn't be the last.

"Come on, Sade," she said under her breath, disappointed with herself. Distracted was not a word Sadie would use to describe herself. In fact she was much the opposite, task oriented and incredibly focused. Lately Sadie couldn't stop her mind from wandering down dark paths, each one winding through progressively worse territory. It was maddening, particularly because Sadie had no clue how to stop herself.

Sadie finished folding the sheet and set it atop the large stack she'd been working on for the better part of an hour. The work, though tedious, was methodical and somewhat therapeutic. Joining the four corners of the sheet together and folding it into a perfect square was oddly satisfying, especially as the chaotic pile of clean sheets began to shrink until she finished folding the last sheet. Sadie wished all of her jobs were as easy and pleasant, because lately she'd been taking any small task, just to keep her mind occupied. If she was being really honest with herself, she'd also taken small jobs to stay out of the first ward tent and away from her languishing patients.

"There," she said to herself, admiring her handiwork. "Perfect."

The stack of white sheets were just about the only perfect thing she could think of. It had been two long weeks since Douglas Lovitz came stumbling back with the rest of the 107th. Two agonizing weeks of not knowing whether the captured men were alive or dead. Two absolutely crushing weeks of Sadie trying to convince herself that Bucky was still alive.

"Well, if nursing doesn't work out, you have a promising career in laundry," a familiar, crisp voice noted from the tent's entrance.

Sadie turned around to see Peggy Carter approach her, leather jacket over her uniform shirt. Rain droplets slid down the shoulders and sleeves of the jacket, creating dark circles on the untreated wood floor. The cold late afternoon air wrapped around Sadie, worming its way through the open gaps in her field jacket. She cast a glance to her folded sheets and then shrugged.

"I like to have backup plans."

Peggy smirked slightly and put her hands in her jacket pockets. "I've been meaning to come by for days to see how you are."

Sadie shrugged but kept her eyes averted from her observant friend. "I'm fine. There's plenty to keep me busy."

Peggy arched an unconvinced eyebrow and, though both women knew that Sadie was lying, wisely chose to keep that information to herself. Instead, she waited in silence as Sadie put the folded sheets onto a shelf. Sadie didn't dare ask Peggy if there was a rescue attempt in the works, mainly because deep down she already knew the answer. If the SSR was planning a rescue it would have done it by now. The very idea of Peggy verbally confirming that Sadie would never see Bucky again nearly killed her where she stood.

Regret burned in her chest, tightening her lungs and making each breath hurt worse than the last. For several long seconds Sadie kept her back to Peggy, desperately trying to gain control of herself. A gentle hand touched Sadie's shoulder.

"I also came by to see if you wanted to get dinner, so we can catch up." Peggy's voice was low and soothing. Understanding leeched through Peggy's hand into Sadie's body.

Drawing in a deep breath, Sadie nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good. I could use a break from folding and inventory."

Peggy rewarded her with a smile of her own. Together the two women drew up their jacket collars and hurried into the deluge. Cold rain drops touched Sadie's cheeks and cooled her hot skin. The mess tents were open and several benches were sparsely occupied by infantrymen and staff alike. After they collected their stew and rolls, they took seats near the main road where they could watch the comings and goings of the camp. They ate in blessed silence, Peggy intuitively understanding that Sadie didn't want to talk about what was troubling her.

Through the curtains of rain, Sadie watched a few jeeps rumbled through. People jogged along the edges of the tents, weaving in and out for cover as they passed. Even at the tables nearby, she couldn't see a smile on a single face. She wasn't even sure when she smiled last, let alone laughed.

But that changed in the span of a few seconds as two figures emerged from the storm. Evelyn and Marjorie were grinning from ear to ear as they rushed to Sadie and Peggy's table.

"What's gotten into you two?" Sadie asked, but never got the chance to finish the entire thought out loud.

"You will never guess what we just heard!" Evelyn said loudly over Sadie, drawing disgruntled glances from the diners close by.

Peggy didn't even bother looking up from her dinner. Long ago she'd grown accustomed to Evelyn and Marjorie's penchant for gossip, usually about hospital staff she'd never met before. "Dazzle me," said Sadie dryly.

"Doc Holmes just got out of a meeting with some of the hospital senior staff and guess who's coming to the base camp?"

"Fred Astaire?"

Evelyn shot Sadie a withering glare. For the first time in two weeks, the corners of Sadie's mouth lifted into the ghost of a smile. "No and I've got half a mind to not tell you now."

"Well I don't care," said Marjorie, sitting down across from Sadie. "The USO is coming to the base camp to perform and Captain America is coming with them."

Peggy flinched so hard that her fork slid across the bottom of her tin dish, slamming into the edge. The dish tipped upwards, sloshing stew all over the table while the fork landed with a loud clatter in Sadie's stew. Blood pooled in Peggy's cheeks, reminding Sadie strongly of the tomatoes her mother grew in the summer. She stared wide-eyed at Peggy, then down to her stew and back up to Peggy once more.

"Big fan?"

Evelyn's sarcastic, slightly leering question on served to intensify Peggy's blush. Marjorie delicately covered her mouth to hide her smile while Sadie wondered in awe at her friend's strong reaction. Peggy was one of the most emotionally steady women she'd ever met, suddenly reduced to a teenaged schoolgirl becoming flustered at the sight of her first crush.

"We've met," she said vaguely.

The glee on Evelyn's face practically glowed, cutting through the doom and gloom. "Maybe he'll give you his autograph when he's here," Marjorie teased.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it's his autograph she wants," said Evelyn with a laugh.

Peggy looked as though she'd rather face down Hitler himself than participate in the conversation. From across the table she shot Sadie a pointed glance as if to say 'they're your idiot friends, help me!' The urge to laugh bubbled into Sadie's throat but she quelled it, instead fixing Evelyn and Marjorie with her patented mothering expression.

"Evie, don't be so childish." Sadie raised her eyebrows at Marjorie. "And you know better than to go along with Evie's ridiculous antics."

Marjorie immediately sobered. Evelyn on the other hand seemed to be channeling Betty's spirit as her grin widened. "Saint Sadie strikes again, ruining all out fun," she murmured in a sing-song voice. "C'mon Margie, let's get food while Peggy cools down."

The two girls floated off, still in excited conversation. Sadie returned her attention to Peggy. "You know between the two of us, we're probably skilled enough to make them disappear without a trace."

Peggy's embarrassment broke and she gave Sadie a grateful smile. "Don't make offers you don't intend to carry through," she teased lightly. Peggy checked her wristwatch. "Anyway, I've got to go. Colonel Phillips called a meeting that starts in a few minutes. Probably to tell us the same news."

Sadie bade her friend farewell and found herself alone with her thoughts once more.

X X X

"These jackasses could least turn on a fan or two," said O'Connell through gritted teeth. He stood a few feet away from Bucky, struggling with the heavy metal components he was fitting together.

Bucky privately agreed with O'Connell. Sweat poured down his temples and back, glistening on his grimy skin. Muscles he didn't even know he had ached from overuse and his feet had gone numb an hour earlier. The fact that he even heard O'Connell over the din of the factory was something of a surprise, the sound was nearly deafening at points. He grunted as he continued to drill holes into flat metal panel after panel, smaller pieces of some larger machine.

Row after row of soldiers continued to drone on, working beneath the malevolent eyes of their captors. Two guards stood at either end of each row, waiting with sickening eagerness for a worker to fall even a little bit behind on their work. Every so often, a guard would walk along the row, pausing to berate one man or another, sometimes going so far as to whack their victim hard across the back or shoulders. But more than the threat of the guards, the oppressive temperature threatened to drag Bucky to the concrete floor.

He didn't reply to O'Connell. Talking was expressly forbidden on the factory floor and that O'Connell even dared to do so was beyond stupid. Four days earlier Bucky watched in horror as two men were forced through the mysterious double doors at gunpoint, guilty of that very offense.

There was very little Bucky could do to amuse himself during the arduous hours. Most of the time he let his mind go entirely blank, driving all of his focus into the task at hand. Blocking out all of his thoughts kept him away from more painful topics. Some days, Bucky wasn't sure why he maintained the demanding pace. It had become painfully apparent that nobody in the SSR or 107th was going to come get him or anyone else.

At night, Bucky found himself agonizing over whether he'd ever see the outside world again. Would it take long for word to reach the U.S.? What would his parents be told? Would Steve's efforts to join re-double in the face of Bucky's death? How long would it take for Sadie to move on from whatever they'd shared?

Bucky forced the bit of his drill hard through the metal, taking some sick satisfaction in it. He couldn't vent his frustration any other way and there was a lot of it pent up. The more he thought about his partings with Steve and Sadie, the worse he felt. Berating Steve for wanting to join and then walking away to go dancing with a couple of girls had been selfish, even for Bucky. After all, he couldn't even remember Connie's face anymore. That memory had been replaced by Sadie Reid, the other great regret he kept reconsidering. Letting her walk into the first ward tent had been a monumental mistake, even greater than trying to kiss her. Hadn't his mother always told Bucky to never part ways on an angry note?

He may never have the chance to make things right with his best friend and the woman he adored. A fresh spark of angry breathed fresh life into his exhausted muscles and he used it with renewed fervor. Next to him O'Connell coughed hard, flagging as the late hours wore on. Bucky wouldn't let himself fall to pieces now. He was determined to make it until the bitter end, in vain hope that he'd make it out alive.

A break in the assembly came. Bucky and O'Connell exchanged confused glances. Two rows ahead of them the guards rushed towards the middle. Every half-second or so Bucky saw the flail of a limb or the flash of night stick.

"Goddamn," mumbled O'Connell under his breath.

"Yeah," said Bucky slowly. He wondered what happened this time. Yelps of pain could be heard over the whirring machinery. In that moment Bucky couldn't decide what was worse, the beating the poor prisoner was taking or the fact that he was becoming less horrified each time it occurred.

O'Connell coughed again. "Look!" He said through his hacking, pointing up to the catwalks stretching high over the floor.

Lifting his face, Bucky could see a man standing over the commotion. Rotund and balding the man shouldn't have been threatening in the slightest. He shouldn't have caused Bucky's nerves to shoot off or his muscles to contract painfully. Squinting through round spectacles, the man was a pale non-threatening lump of a figure. And yet, Bucky instinctively knew he didn't want to go within ten feet of the man. Perhaps it was because of how he watched the scuffle below, entirely unmoved by the prisoner's screaming or the violence doled out for what Bucky was certain was a minor indiscretion.

"He must be the scientist," said O'Connell.

And then, as though the man in question heard O'Connell, he turned his head. Bucky felt as though someone poured a bucket of ice water over his head. The scientist stared directly as Bucky as he glared back, neither man willing to look away at first. A small, ominous smile touched the scientist's lips and he nodded once to Bucky before turning away.

X X X

 _Mist wafted over the dark forest floor. Sadie walked barefoot among the trees, fumbling through the semi-darkness. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up as she squinted her eyes to see better. Goosebumps erupted over her shoulders and arms, bared by the white silk dress she wore. The same gown she wore to her first cotillion, the dress swished softly with each hesitant step she took, cutting through the thick mist._

 _"Hello?" She asked into the empty wood that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Sadie's voice echoed off the tree trunks surrounding her, drawing closer and closer to her body as she stood still._

 _No answer came._

 _Rubbing her hands over her upper arms, Sadie walked on. Vines crept along the ground, slithering out from the earth as she walked. A flourish of grass and plants rose up in the trail of her path, wilting and dying as she left the foliage behind. She heard nothing but the sound of her own footsteps and her heart pounding in her chest. Acutely aware of her own body, Sadie felt the rush of blood in her veins, thrumming in uneasy time with her erratic heartbeats._

 _The mist swirled around her skirt as she continued to press forward, leaving a train of decay in her path until she reached the edge of a lake. Silently, Sadie crouched to place her hand in the water, but found the lake iced over instead. Her mouth opened in soft surprise. How could there be ice when she wasn't cold?_

 _"Help!" A voice cried in the far distance._

 _Sadie's hackles rose._

 _"Hello? Where are you!" She called out._

 _"Please, help me!"_

 _The plea for help came from across the lake, Sadie was certain of it. Though she was barefoot, Sadie stepped onto the frozen surface, but she couldn't feel the cold. Holding the skirt of her cotillion dress away with one of her hands, she walked swiftly along the ice. Beneath her body, the ice cap creaked and she could hear it crack deep within. The shifting set her uneasy on her feet, tottering uncertainly. But the call for help came again, striking a chord of fear seated deep in Sadie's chest._

 _An urge more powerful than she'd ever felt overcame Sadie. She had to find the source of the cry. No matter what happened and no matter how she got there, Sadie had to find whoever was calling out to her. Undeterred by the cold, she picked up the pace until she was flat out sprinting across the ice her feet barely touching down. Ahead of Sadie the blackness continued to swirl uncertainly. But she barreled headlong and as her feet touched the far bank of the lake she broke through the darkness and stumbled into a clearing._

 _Silent in her horror, Sadie raised her hands to cover her mouth. The still smoking, charred remains of the 107_ _th_ _field hospital scattered around her. Near Sadie's feet lay a portion of a hospital tent. The bright red cross on a white field was easily discernable as flames licked the edges of the canvas, slowly consuming the fabric. The blood in her veins ran cold and shivers slipped down the length of her spine. Every direction she turned all Sadie could see were mangled, dismembered, and burnt bodies. Though she couldn't see their faces, Sadie inherently knew that each set of remains belonged to a staff member she knew._

 _Hesitant, she drew nearer to a pile of remains. A skeletal hand reached outward towards the heavens, begging for reprieve even in death. Sadie's fingers visibly shook when she reached out to touch the hand, nothing more than charred bone. A gasp rose and died in her lungs as the hand dissolved into ash, blowing away into nothing. Bile rose in her throat. Sadie wanted to dash in a dozen directions to try and find any survivors. But before she could take another step she heard a voice that rooted her feet to the hard ground._

 _"Sadie! Help me!"_

 _It was a voice she'd know anywhere, deep and touched by a Brooklyn accent. Bucky called to her again._

 _"Sadie, please!"_

 _Sadie looked towards the horizon and the path before her opened up, clearing a way through the destruction of the field hospital. Once more, the urge to push forward overcame Sadie. Her feet began to move before her mind to could even consider staying. Dust rose in small clouds behind her as she tread onward. When she dared to look over her shoulder, the field hospital was gone, swallowed into a veil of smoke._

 _Bucky continued to yell out, though his voice seemed as far away as ever. The path lead onward, growing steadily darker once more until Sadie could no longer see more than two feet in front of her._

 _"Where are you?" She called into the void, her voice trailing away._

 _Wherever he was Bucky groaned in pain. Fresh terror needled at Sadie's stomach and she began to walk faster, stopping every so often to listen for Bucky._

 _"Sadie, please come find me! I need you!"_

 _Her ears perked up, he was closer now. Once more she gathered her skirt in hand and took off down the path. Louder and louder, Bucky's pleas grew until at last she could see his face looming ahead of hers in a clearing. Concrete columns and mountains rose behind Bucky as he stood in his Class A uniform._

 _"Run!" He bellowed to her, blue eyes flashing with fear and anger. But he wasn't looking at her. Although he was merely feet away from her fingertips, Sadie ground to a halt and pivoted._

 _A man strode out of the darkness. His frame was broad and muscular, dressed in what she recognized as Class A's, only the uniform was pitch black. A naked pistol lay in his left hand, shining unnaturally bright silver. As he marched into the light her mouth fell open as fresh, abject horror swirled angrily in the pit of her stomach. Bucky came out of the blackness, his eyes as blue as ever but entirely devoid of the light she knew. This Bucky's mouth was set in a hard line and his face remained stone still._

 _"Sadie, run!" Whipping her head back, Sadie could see Bucky, the real Bucky, waving his arms for her to run._

 _But fear rooted Sadie where she stood. Even if she'd wanted to run, her legs wouldn't allow it. "No! I won't leave you!"_

 _"Sadie, just please go!"_

 _Bucky begged her but Sadie turned away, looking at the dark Bucky. He raised his left arm, holding the pistol aloft. At first he pointed the barrel directly at her. Bitter adrenaline flooded her mouth while her heart threatened to come out of her chest. His finger slid over the trigger but at the very last second he veered off._

 _She turned just in time to see her Bucky stumble backwards. A stunned expression held his face as he removed his hands that covered his chest to reveal a bloody gunshot wound. Bucky's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell backwards._

 _Sadie doubled over in a scream, but no sound came out._

X X X

Sadie woke paralyzed in her fear. Unable to move any part of her body, Sadie nearly choked on the panic that bubbled into her throat. The horrific second seemed to last a lifetime before she woke completely with a soft gasp. Immediately she moved her hand to her chest to ensure that she was actually alive. Sure enough, her heart was still racing. Breathing hard, but determined not to wake Evelyn, Sadie sat up and reached for her boots.

Swiftly she tugged her boots on and grabbed her field jacket before departing their small tent. The rain stopped sometime in the night. Cold air wrapped around her body, chilling the already cold sweat that clung to her skin. Shivering, Sadie pressed forward blindly.

"It was only a dream," she muttered to herself, though she was having a hard time believing herself.

As a child, Sadie had endured nightmares but she hadn't had one in years. But just as they had then, this nightmare felt so real. Reaching up the sleeve of her jacket Sadie pinched the inside of her elbow hard enough to draw blood. The sharp pain brought a small measure of relief. You couldn't feel things in dreams, she reminded herself.

A handful of crates stood just outside of the women's camp and close to the hospital tents. Often used as makeshift seating for hospital staff when they took breaks to smoke, the position of the crates gave Sadie a nice view of the wood and the first rays of morning sun coming through the trees. She had no idea how long she sat staring out into nothing, thinking of the one thing she'd tried for weeks to keep out of her mind.

Regret always seemed to find her despite how hard she ran from it. Sadie bitterly regretted her last meeting with Bucky. The harshness of her words combined with her outright rejection left an unpleasant feeling that hung over her every hour. Though she knew refusing to kiss him was the right thing to do, she had no excuse for her abhorrent behavior that followed. What wouldn't she have given to go back in time and take it all back!

Now, more than ever, Sadie longed to bury herself in his embrace. She wanted to feel his fingers stroking her hair while her fingers counted the steady beats of his heart. Hearing Bucky's voice in her dreams wasn't enough to satisfy her longing. Sadie would take a shouting match over the utter silence that his absence brought. Already she'd begun to come to terms with the fact that he was likely already dead; but seeing a darker version of Bucky murder himself in her nightmare was too much to bear.

Sadie dug into the breast pocket of her shirt and produced a folded piece of paper. The edges were beginning to show the first signs of wear and tear. Though she knew the words by heart now, Sadie still unfolded the note. There was something about holding the note in her hand and reading Bucky's handwriting that always helped to calm the worst of her ill mood. It was the only thing of piece of him that she had; as such, she regarded the brief sentences with the same reverence as she did the wedding ring that hung from her neck.

Dropping her eyes to the paper she once again read the familiar prose.

 _Dear Sadie,_

 _I'm sorry for being a huge idiot. But I think we both knew it was bound to happen at some point. You do that to me. Sometimes I'm around you and it's all I can do to not kiss you. I hope you can forgive me, or at least be nice enough to not tell all of your friends that I'm a complete jackass. I can't wait to see you again._

 _Yours,_

 _Bucky_

Sadie re-read the note another time. Covering her eyes with one of her hands, she began to cry. A warm hand touched hers.

"Sadie?"

Evelyn's voice was soft and worried. Sniffling, Sadie tried her best to bring her tears to an end, but found she couldn't. Turning her head, she pressed her face against Evelyn's shoulder. Evelyn rest her head atop Sadie's and twined their fingers together.

"It's from him, isn't it? That note."

Sadie said nothing. The words wouldn't come out. Instead she nodded.

"And you've been dreaming about him, too."

It wasn't so much a question as a conclusion, one Sadie couldn't ignore. The memory of the dream burned Sadie's heart and she nodded once more.

"Look, I know you like your privacy. You always have. But, I have to ask you because I know you'll never say anything if I don't." Evelyn took a deep breath and moved so she could look at her friend. "Sadie, are you in love with Sergeant Barnes?"

 **A/N: Have I mentioned that I'm just a little bit evil? Because…I sort of am. Next chapter picks up where we leave off, will have a heavier focus on Bucky, and we just might see the return of a certain spangly man with a plan.**

 **Anyway I'd love to hear your thoughts! Much love – Kappa.**


	15. Admissions and Experimentation

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with a regular update! This chapter was a surprise to me as it includes some things I thought I wasn't going to do. Overall I really liked the way it came out, I think it highlights aspects of some characters I haven't had a chance to really explore, which was a lot of fun.**

 **You guys. Seriously. Songbirds is now over 100,000 words with a mind-blowing amount of followers, favorites, and reviews. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the love! As long as you guys keep loving this story I will keep writing it, even when life is crazy and I'm being pulled in a hundred different directions! Also special thanks to the wonderful Stencil Your Heart for beta-ing most of this chapter and to Mopargirl1 who is the world's best sounding board.**

 **Warnings – this chapter contains language, violence, death, and general doom and gloom. I promise that it won't be this way forever…fluff is on the eventual horizon!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** _ **Captain America**_ **or** _ **Marvel**_ **. If I did I wouldn't have sold my soul to law school.**

 **Chapter 15 – Admissions and Experimentation**

"Sadie, are you in love with Sergeant Barnes?"

Evelyn's question resonated uncomfortably in Sadie's chest. Just the insinuation that she might be in love kicked her heart into a faster pace, making it pound hard against her breastbone. Was she in love with Bucky? This wasn't the first time she'd considered such a notion.

Love was a wondrous thing and Sadie, for all of her balking, had always wanted to fall in love. The trouble was that Sadie had never been in love before. Growing up she'd had her fair share of suitors, moonlit dates, and lingering goodnight kisses on her front porch, but none of her romantic interests rose beyond the level of passing fancy. Her affections came and went easily, often changing in the face of a man who expected too much of her. Sadie was willing to compromise to make a marriage work, but she drew the line at being forced to give up parts of herself in order to become the pretty ornament most men wanted.

 _But Bucky doesn't want that from you_ , she reminded herself. In fact, he'd never asked anything of her before. Bucky had gone out of his way to be her friend first and to give her comfort when she faltered. A judgmental word regarding her line of work never left his lips. They'd shared long conversations driven first by mutual curiosity and then mutual regard. Without Sadie ever realizing it, Bucky had come to know her better than any man ever had. Somewhere along the way, she'd grown attached to him in a way she'd never expected or intended. She knew she wanted more than friendship with him, but was she really in love?

"I don't know. I've never been in love before so it's hard to tell," she admitted at last. Sadie looked down at the note, brushing her thumb over Bucky's signature. "But I wanted the chance to find out."

Evelyn hugged her friend close. Sadie snuggled against her, resting her head in the crook of her friend's neck. "He wants to be with you. Surely you know that by now."

"I do," said Sadie, confessing her suspicion for the first time.

A blind man could see Bucky's interest in her and Sadie had figured out Bucky's intentions weeks earlier. No man spent as much time trying to get her attention as Bucky did when he was in the hospital unless he had romantic ideas. He thought he was being discreet, but she'd seen the dismayed expression on his face when Lieutenant McAllister wormed his way into eating dinner with her. Sadie remembered the open longing in his face when she'd given him her Saint Christopher's medal. Bucky had wanted to kiss her so badly, but it was only until recently that Sadie realized she'd wanted to kiss him just as much.

"What happened between you two? And don't lie to me again, please. I know something happened the day he brought that wounded man to the hospital. You came back inside looking like you'd seen a ghost and you haven't been yourself since."

Damn Evelyn and her irritating observant nature! Sadie sighed. After a moment's contemplation, she told Evelyn everything, starting with Bucky walking her to the small tent and washing away Meyers' blood. Sadie left no detail out. When she finally finished with her parting words to Bucky, fresh tears spilled from her eyes and her cheeks burned with shame.

"I'm so sorry, Evie! I wanted to tell you. At first I was too angry to say anything and after he was captured I just couldn't bring myself to talk about it."

Evelyn's hold on Sadie tightened. "You don't have to apologize! You're entitled to your own secrets, Sade. I just want to be here for you, that's all. It's clear how much you're hurting, everyone can see it."

"I told him to go away," Sadie whispered. "How could I be so cruel? God, what if those are the last words I ever say to him?"

To Sadie's surprise, a tiny laugh escaped Evelyn. Pulling back, she looked at the redhead to find something akin to hopefulness glittering in her eyes. "He's alive, I just know it."

The ferocity of Evelyn's belief lit a small fire in Sadie's chest, warming her for the first time in weeks. A small part of the numbness she'd been feeling in the wake of Bucky's capture disappeared. Surely Evelyn was right. Bucky and his men had been in tough spots before; how could he storm beaches and endure shellings only to die as a prisoner? It didn't seem possible that men so strong and battle hardened would fall so easily.

"I hope you're right," she murmured, looking down at the letter.

Gently, Evelyn tugged the note from Sadie's fingers. She read the brief lines, her smile growing. Evelyn let out a low whistle. "He's got it bad, doesn't he? I've got to admit, he's the last person I'd pick for you. I always figured you'd end up with some older professor type who wouldn't mind you gallivanting around hospitals and bossing him around."

Even Sadie couldn't hide her amusement. Her tears had finally stopped as she covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her laugh of disbelief. "I do not boss people around!"

They both knew it was a horrible lie and dissolved into fresh giggles. "The good sergeant doesn't seem to mind, though. Oh Lord, your mother's going to have six fits from Christmas!"

Sadie thought about Bucky's Brooklyn accent and unrefined manners. She doubted he knew which fork to use at a nice dinner or how to waltz. But the more she thought about Bucky's rough and tumble upbringing, the more she liked it. Bucky's different perspective had plenty of room for all of her oddities, including her insistence on being a career-woman. Maybe he lacked a certain genteel quality but he more than made up for it with his happy nature, loyalty, and humor. What he didn't know she could teach. After all, there was more to a good man than good manners.

"She'd get over it," said Sadie at length. "My mother never could resist a charming man."

"Sergeant Barnes has charm in excess," agreed Evelyn. "You couldn't leave him alone at a party, that's for sure."

A new grin tugged at Sadie's lips just imaging Bucky surrounded by a flock of southern belles all vying for his attention. He certainly had an alluring quality and just a hint of danger that would make him attractive to even the most sheltered of girls. But that was a different world, one where Bucky wasn't a prisoner of war, one where she hadn't rejected his advance. Turning her head back down, Sadie struggled to breathe once more.

"Not that it matters; it doesn't look like he'll be making the trip home."

"He's alive," Evelyn repeated doggedly. "He's going to come back and you'll get your chance to make everything right. Besides, he's way too handsome to die."

Sadie coughed on her laughter and she gave Evelyn a hearty shove. "Evie!"

"No really! I ought to congratulate you and someone should definitely thank his mother! I'm going to be a bridesmaid right? Ooh, you'll have such pretty babies!" Evelyn's cooing tipped Sadie over the edge. She gave her friend another shove and this time sent Evelyn tumbling to the ground amid her gales of laughter.

"At the rate you're going I wouldn't even make you the flower girl!" Sadie teased, but she was laughing all the same.

Evelyn got to her feet, brushing off her pants. "There's the Sadie I know and love - brutally honest with just the smallest hint of bitter. It's a wonder any man wants to go steady with you at all!"

Sadie threw her head back and laughed. Her good humor was, for the moment, restored. "I don't know what you're talking about; I'm a delight!" She stowed Bucky's note safely in her breast pocket and slung an arm around Evelyn's shoulder. "Now come on, let's get breakfast before our shift starts."

As the two women walked towards the mess tents, Evelyn changed the subject to the impending arrival of the USO and the famed Captain America. For the rest of the morning both girls speculated about whether he was really as handsome in real life as he was in his picture reels. But as Sadie began her morning shift, her thoughts returned to Bucky Barnes and Evelyn's lingering question. If she wasn't already in love with Bucky, she knew she was well on her way to being head right over heels.

X X X

Frank O'Connell coughed hard in his sleep. Bucky spared a concerned glance for his friend, hoping that he would settle down in the little bit of remaining time before the guards came to usher them to the factory floor. He himself hadn't slept more than four or so hours, woken at first by the sounds of his cellmates shifting and snoring. Then his mind wandered to dark places, refusing to quiet itself long enough to go back to sleep. More than once he'd woken in a cold sweat, plagued by nightmares that always involved seeing the dead faces of the people he loved, contorted with terror. He lay on his back in the narrow space accorded him, turning over the small silver medallion in his fingers.

"Whatcha got there?"

Slowly, Bucky turned his head and propped his upper half up. Dugan sat slouched against the bars, bowler hat tipped back to reveal his broad face. He wouldn't willingly hand the token over to just anyone, but Dugan was an exception.

"Saint Christopher, patron saint of travelers," he said knowledgably. The medal glinted under the dull light. Overhead a guard walked on, his boots rattling their cage bars. "A gift?"

"Sadie gave it to me," said Bucky. Normally he never spoke about his relationship with Sadie, though his regard for her was one of the worst-kept secrets in the whole damn army.

Unsurprisingly, a wide grin came across Dugan's face. "Ah, sweet Sadie Reid," he teased him gently. Bucky was glad for the dark light that hid his flush. "Now there's a woman any man would be lucky to go home to."

"Yeah, she's something else," said Bucky evasively. Dugan arched an amused eyebrow but he didn't push the envelope. He alone of Bucky's military friends seemed to have picked up on Bucky's unwillingness to discuss his romantic endeavors.

"She's more than that. If we get out of here alive I ought to find a girl like that - beautiful, headstrong, and about ten times smarter than I am," he mused, his voice trailing off while his lazy smile grew.

Dugan handed the medal back to Bucky. He continued to toy with it, thinking about the woman who gave it to him. Sadie was all of those things Dugan listed and it was hard to pick out what Bucky loved best about her. But in the grueling days that passed he knew he'd do just about anything to get back to her. "If we get out of here alive I'm going to tell Sadie the truth, that I'm crazy about her."

It was the first time he'd acknowledged his feelings out loud to one of his friends. To Bucky's surprise, Dugan covered his hand and coughed to hide his laughter. Amusement danced in his blue eyes, revealed by just a slim shaft of light.

"You should tell her the truth, Buck," Dugan agreed, humor touching the edges of his voice. "But let me give you a piece of advice. You don't tell a woman like Sadie that you're crazy about her. You tell her that you're in love with her."

Bucky opened his mouth to protest when O'Connell coughed so hard he woke up, hacking into his hands. Reaching across, Bucky helped haul his friend into a sitting position. O'Connell doubled over as he continued to cough to the point where Bucky was sure he'd cracked a rib. Rubbing a comforting hand up and down his friend's back, Bucky tried to keep him steady.

"Take is easy, Frank."

Gabe was awake now, helping Bucky support O'Connell. "I'm fine."

O'Connell sounded anything but fine. His voice was hoarse and raw, cracking uncomfortably mid-sentence. A wheezing sound accompanied his labored breathing and he winced when Bucky tried to help him sit up straighter. One of his hands moved to his ribs, rubbing a sore spot.

He reminded Bucky of how Steve often looked when they were children, constantly sick with bronchitis or nasty colds. On those days, Bucky would bring his bedridden friend his school work and would keep him company. Often, they would play with die cast model cars or take turns making up stories. As they grew older, Bucky liked to regale Steve with tales about their classmates and his own first forays into dating. But this wasn't Brooklyn and O'Connell wasn't confined to a warm bed with nothing better to do than read pulp magazines.

O'Connell coughed into his hands again, slipping sideways into Bucky. Try as he might to hide it, O'Connell failed to conceal his hands as he brought them away. Droplets of blood speckled his skin. Bucky's stomach sank. He was no doctor but even he knew that coughing blood was never a good sign. Gabe placed his hand on O'Connell's forehead and withdrew quickly.

"You're burning up," he murmured.

Dugan's scowl mirrored Bucky's. "Frank, how long has this been going on?"

O'Connell shrugged. In the narrow shafts of waning moonlight, Bucky could see his friend had become rather gaunt. How had he missed the way O'Connell's waxy skin seemed to stretch over his bones? Dark circles clung to the undersides of his eyes and he swallowed painfully. "I started feeling bad before we moved out of Azzano."

Dugan swore. "Christ, son! Why didn't you go back to the field hospital?"

A tiny, sad smile pulled at O'Connell's mouth. "I didn't know we had reservations at hotel hell, otherwise I would've."

Bucky spent a great deal of his time thinking about Sadie and dreaming about seeing her again. Now he avidly wished that she was there, caring for O'Connell. He would have given anything to hear her soothing voice as she treated his friend, putting her incredible hands to good work. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, praying that he wouldn't lose another one of his friends. He was tired of watching good men die.

"Well, at least you've still got a sense of humor," Dugan groused. Nobody seemed to share his pathetic attempt at optimism. Every eye in their cell was on O'Connell as he doubled over once more, hacking into his hands.

Falsworth was awake now and rummaging through the pockets of his trousers. "I've been saving this in case of an emergency, but your need is far greater than mine."

In his hands he held a small tin that everyone else recognized immediately. Falsworth handed the tin to Bucky to press on the bottom left corner. A sulfanilamide tablet popped out. Gabe helped O'Connell tip his head back so he could swallow the pill. Bucky gave him one and then another.

"If I'd known you were feeling so poorly earlier I'd have given them to you then," Falsworth added, regret burning in his voice.

"I didn't want you guys to worry," said O'Connell.

It was a stupid thing to do, thought Bucky ruefully, but a sentiment he understood. Steve had spent much of his childhood and adolescence trying to hide the worst of his symptoms when he got sick. Gabe and Bucky did their best to recline O'Connell while the rest of the guys in their cells handed over their thin blankets. Bucky lay a couple of the blankets over O'Connell's shivering body while Dugan wadded up the rest to serve as a pillow.

"Try to get some sleep, Frank," said Dugan.

The stagnant air of fear hung over their cell. O'Connell briefly drifted off to sleep under the watchful eyes of his comrades. There would be no break for him after the guards came and it was all Bucky could do to hope he could help his friend along during the coming day.

X X X

"Good afternoon, Douglas."

Doug Lovitz lifted his head as Sadie approached him. A friendly expression crossed his pale face and he patted the small stool next to his bed as a welcoming gesture. Sadie returned his warm welcome, going to sit next to him.

"How are you today?" She asked.

A shadow passed across Doug's features, highlighting the darkness in his eyes. "Same 'ole, same 'ole. How about you? Terrorize any unsuspecting technicians today?"

Laughter sparkled in Sadie's stormy eyes. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she teased him gently. Doug flushed a nice shade of pink in response.

Sadie relaxed and listened to Doug tell her all about the commotion that she'd missed during the night shift. Over the past week and a half, Sadie often spent her breaks sitting with Doug Lovitz. He'd been struggling with his trauma since returning from the front line, bloodied and half out of his mind. But he had a good sense of humor and Sadie enjoyed listening to his version of the first ward tent's goings on. As the days progressed, Sadie started to notice a change in her friend. He was less withdrawn and tended to do better on the days she visited with him.

From the depths of one of her pockets, she produced a Hershey's bar. Sadie knew it wasn't the pack of cigarettes he would rather have, but she'd never met a soldier who refused chocolate. Doug prattled on about the night nurses having a tiff over how to properly prepare the beds while Sadie unwrapped the bar and snapped it into pieces. Setting the wrapper on the bed next to Doug, the pair shared the treat together.

"Any news from home?" She asked, knowing that Doug also showed signs of improvement on the days he received letters from his family.

"A letter from my sister," he said happily. "Turns out she's finally finished with that good-for-nothing chucklehead she's been seeing."

Sadie grinned. She'd heard all about the saga of Doug's older sister's infamously poor taste in men. "Well that's good then! Maybe she'll get around to meeting someone nice for a change."

"Gosh I hope so. I'm gettin' real tired of chasing off the loser brigade. I thought maybe I'd introduce her to Jed Williams. He's in third platoon and lives one town over. Jed's got a thing for blondes and I bet they'd get along real swell." Sadie chewed on her chocolate thoughtfully while she listened to Doug.

The letter from home arrived at a good time, she thought. Only two days before he'd started to withdraw from his surroundings, thinking too much about the horrors from the battlefield. Sadie had been led to believe that Doug was on the very front when HYDRA turned on the Nazis, decimating them before moving onto the 107th. The majority of his company had been killed or captured right in front of him and the only reason he'd escaped was because Lieutenant McAllister pulled him to safety at the last second. Try as she might, Sadie couldn't imagine the scene. Doug in particular took the battle hard because he was the sole member of his squad and platoon to return. Though he was alone without his friends, he was not the only man confined to the hospital for his trauma; half of Sadie's beds were full of men suffering from similar mental distress. Nobody at the base camp thought worse of the men for it.

A small part of Sadie would be forever grateful to Douglas Lovitz. After all, it was Doug who told Sadie that Bucky had been captured instead of killed. He had given her the small ember of hope she held onto that she might yet see Bucky again.

Sadie's break came to an end and she left Doug with a squeeze of her hand and swift kiss on the cheek. As she walked away she did not see the tomato red flush in his cheeks or the envious looks he drew from his neighbors. Instead, Sadie ordered a handful of technicians to restock the ward tent's supplies and pulled all of her tools and supplies from her apron. Using a few swabs and alcohol, she began to clean her supplies. Sadie became so engrossed in her task that she did not see a stately gentleman enter the first ward tent and stop to admire her work.

"You're pretty thorough, aren't you?"

Lifting her eyes, Sadie's mouth fell open. The pair of tweezers in her hands fell onto the table with a small thud. Beneath his finely groomed mustache, Howard Stark's lips pulled into a wicked smile. He wore tailored pants and a custom made shirt, Sadie could tell by the monogramming on the cuffs. Howard adjusted the knot on his wide tie, his sharp eyes taking in the details of her face and all of the rest of her he could see.

"Don't let me interrupt you, please! I thought I'd stop by during my afternoon stroll."

To this, Sadie arched a suspicious eyebrow. If Howard Stark was casually stopping by the first ward tent during an afternoon stroll, she'd eat her apron. "It's nice of you to drop by, Mr. Stark," she said at length.

Howard's grin grew. "I see you know me. It's hardly fair that I don't know you."

"I beg your pardon, but doesn't everyone know you?" The words tumbled from Sadie's lips before she could stop them. The surprise on her face was evident because he began to chuckle good-naturedly.

"I'm sure not _everyone_. There has to be a handful people in remote China that have never heard of me." Doubtful, thought Sadie. It was nearly impossible to open a newspaper these days and not see Howard Stark's picture buried somewhere in there. "And who would you be?"

"Sadie Reid," she said. Howard held out a hand and she moved to shake it. Instead he rotated her fingers in his grip, turning her hand so he could kiss the back of it. Her eyebrows flew up in unrestrained surprise.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Sadie Reid. You are a credit to your profession, if I may say so."

Sadie never thought a man more charming than Bucky Barnes existed, but she'd never been more wrong in her life. If Howard Stark were any more charming he'd be riding a white horse and saving damsels in distress all over the Italian countryside. She wondered just how many women had fallen prey to his smooth talk. If she hadn't endured months on end of her fair share of overly charming patients she might have been tempted to flirt back, but instead she gave him a polite smile.

"You're too kind, Mr. Stark. I'm just a regular nurse going about her regular business."

"I sincerely doubt that's true," he said. Smoothing his mustache, he tilted his head to the side. "That's a lovely accent, I don't meet too many southern beauties in New York. Where are you from, doll?"

Sadie bristled at being called 'doll.' Swallowing her barbed retort, she kept her polite mask fixed firmly in place. "Little Rock, Arkansas," she said. "Though I think you'll find most southern belles don't spend their time in hospitals."

"Well if they're anything like you, more of them should," he said with a wink. "I bet the mortality rate around here plummets whenever you're on duty."

The nerve! Deep down Sadie knew that Howard Stark was about as harmless as men came. His reputation was sordid to be sure, but he was also famous for his lavish and wonderful treatment of the women he met. That didn't stop her from raising an unamused eyebrow. "Are you here for a reason, Mr. Stark?"

Her polite inquiry drew another wicked smile from him. "As a matter of fact, I am. I was hoping to speak to one of the doctors or nurses in charge."

Sadie drew herself up, glad to have something to throw back at Stark. "Doctor Holmes is the chief physician of the first ward tent, but I'm the head nurse of the ward. How can I help you?"

If Howard faltered at the realization of who he was talking to, he didn't let it show. Instead he cast his gaze around the tent. "I'd like to talk to some of the men who were on the field when HYDRA attacked," he explained. "So far I haven't gotten a good picture of everything that happened exactly and I want to know as much about HYDRA's weapons as I can."

It was Sadie's turn to falter. She glanced over her shoulder to the rows of patient beds. "I-I'm not sure about that, Mr. Stark. Most of our patients still need plenty of rest and recovery."

Howard crossed his arms over his chest, betraying his surprisingly broad shoulders. "I don't intend to upset anyone, but any information the men can provide would be incredibly helpful for my work."

Sadie bit her lower lip. She'd spent months protecting her patients from their injuries and from illness. Protecting a man from his own mind was something else altogether and she knew from experience how delicate some of the men currently were. The slightest thing could set a patient off, triggering bad memories and full-blown panic. "I don't doubt your intentions, but these men have been through so much. I would hate to undo the progress they've made so far."

"Mr. Stark? I'm Doctor Holmes. To what do we owe the pleasure?" Doctor Holmes approached, a smile on his weathered, weary face. As he came to stand next to Sadie, she could see a few new silver threads shooting through his hair. The hollows beneath his eyes were persistent as ever, but never once dampened his spirits.

Howard repeated his proposal, pointedly ignoring the stony expression on Sadie's face as he spoke. Doctor Holmes, much to Sadie's delight, did not appear open to the idea either. He rubbed the back of his neck as Howard talked, eyes shifting to Sadie more than once.

"I take it that this is of great importance to the SSR. I can't imagine you'd ask to disturb our recovering patients if it weren't." The good Doctor's voice was mild and detached. Howard had the good grace to appear slightly mollified. "Sadie, do you mind giving us a moment?"

She minded a great deal. There was a time and place for insubordination, however, and this was not one of those times. "Of course not, Doctor Holmes."

Reluctantly, she gathered her things and left the conversation. Every so often she cast a furtive glance over her shoulder, desperate to know what was going on. "What's that all about?"

Marjorie had appeared at Sadie's elbow, carrying a large open crate of freshly rolled bandages. "Mr. Stark wants to interview the survivors about the battle," said Sadie grimly. "He wants to know about the enemy's weapons and technology."

"What good will that do except to upset our guys?"

Sadie didn't have an answer to Marjorie's question. She tried to find tasks to keep herself busy while Doctor Holmes and Howard spoke with one another. They kept their voices low, though they were certainly the point of interest in the tent. A few moments later, Howard shook Doctor Holmes' hand and made his way over to Sadie. A triumphant, but rather serious look colored his features, making him appear even more handsome than usual.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Nurse Reid," he said and held his hand out to her again.

This time he shook it. "You too, Mr. Stark."

"You know," he added, tilting his head to the side. Fresh humor flared up in his eyes. "You remind me a little bit of the beautiful Ms. Vivien Leigh and her famed Scarlett O'Hara. Perhaps when we're back in civilization you can teach me how to make a mint julep and we can enjoy a lovely promenade at sunset."

Too bad her heart belonged to someone else, she thought absently. Of course she would never say that to Howard Stark of all people! She grinned at him. "If the society columns are correct, I'm fairly certain Ms. Leigh already taught you how to make a fine mint julep. Besides, I've always been more of a gin girl myself." If Howard's smile could flash any brighter he'd blind Sadie. "Although you do almost remind me of Clark Gable, if only you were a touch more charming."

Howard threw his head back and laughed. "I see why Agent Carter likes you so much, Nurse Reid. I believe I'll see you in a couple of days."

Without another word, he tipped his head to her, turned on heel and strode purposely out of the tent. By then, Doctor Holmes had joined her.

"What a piece of work!" Sadie exclaimed. "Are you going to let him talk to the patients?"

Doctor Holmes sighed. "I don't think I have much of a choice, unfortunately. I imagine if I'd said no then Colonel Phillips would have simply overridden my orders. At least this way I can control the interviews. I've agreed to sit in on each of them. They're to take place the day after tomorrow."

"I can help," Sadie offered.

"I'm afraid I have another task for you that day, Nurse Reid."

Sadie crossed her arms over her chest, feeling rather dubious about this new task. "Sir?"

"As you know, the USO is coming to the base camp and it's been requested of us that the man who plays Captain America be given a tour of the field hospital. I'd like you to be his guide."

Her jaw dropped. "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Fortunately for Sadie, Doctor Holmes merely chuckled at her outburst. "I know it's not to your taste, but the doctors are simply too busy and you're the only nurse I trust to not go to pieces over the poor man."

Well, Sadie couldn't argue with that.

X X X

Whether it was the medicine Falsworth gave O'Connell or the power of God himself, the kid managed to stay upright through the morning and early afternoon. Though he coughed through the majority of his shift, he mostly kept up with his work. Bucky purposely moved as slow as he could to give his friend as much time as he could. But the effort was in vain because as the sun's movement signaled late afternoon, O'Connell's strength began to wane.

There was nothing Bucky could do short of continually encourage his friend out of the corner of his mouth. If he asked for help or for a doctor they'd be beaten. If Bucky left his station he'd likely be shot. If he went to help O'Connell they'd certainly be killed. Bucky was staring down the business end of a no-win situation and he hated it with every fiber of his being. What he wouldn't have given to switch places with O'Connell!

Sweat poured down O'Connell's temples. Wet marks darkened his shirt beneath his arms and down his back. Pale wasn't even an apt description of his skin; he was nearly translucent. The strain of his efforts showed in his face. With each exhausted movement he made, O'Connell gritted his teeth causing the veins and tendons to pop from his neck. In Bucky's eyes he was playing the worst waiting game ever devised.

"Just hang on, Frank," he whispered, urgency laid bare in his voice. "It's only a little bit longer."

O'Connell shook his head. Fresh beads of sweat rolled down his temples. His lips were white as he closed his mouth to try and swallow his latest bout of coughing. When he managed to stop, Bucky could see blood tinging the corners of his mouth.

"I'm so tired, Buck," he rasped.

Bucky swore he felt the spider cracks spread across the surface of his heart. Losing a man was always horrible, he knew that from too much experience. Watching O'Connell, a man he'd known since boot camp, waste away was an entirely new level of excruciation. The scrappy kid from Philadelphia had survived miserable nights being shelled into oblivion, stormed beaches, and made it through every town they took. Bucky would gladly repeat each of those trials and more if it meant not enduring the loss of another friend and comrade.

"You can do it. You have to. As soon as we're done I'll get you back to the cell and you can sleep."

O'Connell raised his elbow and coughed into it. A deep, hollow sound resonated from his chest. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes from the pain in his chest and ribs. "I can't do it. I can't."

"Yes, you can!" Bucky hissed emphatically. "I will hold you up myself if I have to. I'm not going to let you die too."

A faint but very sad smile touched O'Connell's lips as he cast a meaningful sideways glance to Bucky. "You never let any of us die, Bucky. If you could have you'dve saved all of us."

Tears stung Bucky's eyes. "I'm going to save you, too."

Something hard slammed into Bucky's shoulders. A guard's night stick came down on him a second time and he just narrowly avoided yelping in pain. He would have bruises for weeks under the power of the blows. But as he lifted his head to check on O'Connell, a strangled yell escaped him.

"NO!" He roared.

It was too late. A second guard rained a series of sharp blows against O'Connell's sides. He lost his footing and fell to his knees with a hard crack. Bringing his arms up to shield his head, O'Connell coughed and crumpled to the ground. The guard continued wailing on him and Bucky went into a blind rage.

"Bucky don't!" O'Connell wheezed from where he lay curled up on the floor.

Bucky called on his old football days and lunged forward, dropping his shoulders low. The guard was taken completely by surprise as Bucky forced him away before he spun around to go to his friend. "Frank stay with me, stay with me!"

Strong hands grasped Bucky's shoulders and forced him back. O'Connell began to hack again, choking on his own blood while he curled up tighter. A heavy fist connected with the side of Bucky's face, the impact of the punch was so hard that Bucky thought his jaw was broken. But he ducked the next punch and tried to get to O'Connell again, desperate to help his friend.

"He's dying! Why won't you help him!" He growled as the two guards wrenched him backwards again.

What kind of monsters allowed suffering like this to go unchecked? How long had the guards seen O'Connell struggling and done nothing? White hot fury ran through Bucky's veins combining with the bitter taste of adrenaline that gave him a surge of strength. Overcome by the urge to beat the guards into oblivion he wheeled around and started to fight back.

"Stop!" One of the guards shouted. Bucky dropped his aim low and threw several hard punches into the man's stomach. The other guard smashed the butt of his night stick into Bucky's lower back. Sharp pain blossomed and ran the length of his spine but Bucky was too out of his own control to back down. He failed to notice when his knuckles cracked and bled as he fought off the pair of guards using all of the strength he possessed.

O'Connell managed to inch his way beneath his work space, out of the way of the fighting. The life continued to pour out of him as Bucky let nearly three weeks of anger fuel him. Both guards came at him at once and as he tried to fend one off the other attacked with no mercy. He held his own for longer than most, which was why a third guard came sprinting towards them. As soon as he slid into the fray he punched Bucky in the ribs, forcing the air from his lungs and causing him to stumble.

Two sets of arms grabbed his, forcing them behind his back. The third guard put his night stick away and chose to do things the hard way. Bucky sobered as the guard landed one harsh hit after another across his face. He grasped Bucky's shoulders and brought a thick knee into his stomach. At some point he stopped feeling the pain. Blood pooled in his mouth and trickled down from a cut above his eyebrow.

"You're not worth the air you breathe," one of the guards sneered behind his mask.

The guards holding Bucky threw him to the ground. Rolling painfully onto his side, he saw O'Connell watching him.

"I'm sorry," O'Connell rasped.

Tears stung Bucky's swollen eyes and he shook his aching head. "Doctor Zola? What shall we do with him?"

Bucky could not see but he knew that the guards were speaking to the scientist who prowled the catwalks. More than once he'd seen the small man and more than once Bucky had caught him watching him. "Take him to the back, _alive_."

One of the guards grunted his displeasure and Bucky's face drew up in agony as a sharp toe connected with his lower back. Every inch of his body hurt. His skin was cut and bleeding. He now knew that the weeks of struggle were a waste. Bucky knew he was going to die in this godforsaken place.

A hand clamped over each of his ankles, forcing him over onto his stomach. The rough floor bit at his exposed skin when the guards began to drag him down the main aisle of the factory, for the entire populace to see. Bucky shouted and struggled as the remaining guard hauled O'Connell out to where Bucky could see him. He swayed uncertainly on his knees, his face blank as the guard raised his gun and fired.

In a flash of blue light Frank O'Connell vaporized.

Bucky's anguished howling echoed through the factory. He kicked and tried to break away again. One of his captors knelt next to him, grasped his hair and pulled up sharply. The last thing Bucky remembered was the smack of his head against the concrete. His world went dark while the guards resumed their business, dragging him through the double doors at the end of the factory leaving a bloody trail in his wake.

X X X

Wolf whistles echoed up and down the main road through camp. Lines of infantry men and support staff packed either side of the road with men jostling one another for the best position to see the commotion. A convoy of trucks started rumbling through camp five minutes earlier. The noise prompted the hospital staff to venture from the ward tents. Technicians assisted the men who were well enough to walk while the nurses all got good spots on the raised platforms just outside the first ward tent. Sadie stood with her arms folded over her chest when Peggy Carter arrived.

"I heard this was the best view in camp," she said. A faint note of anxiety clung to her voice. Sadie narrowly avoided a sarcastic smile.

"Well it's certainly an eye opening view. I'm fairly certain every man in camp is bathed and clean shaven. Quite the feat if you ask me."

"I can't imagine why," said Peggy. Her dryness matched Sadie's and the two women shared a disparaging look.

The first trucks that passed by were covered by thick canvas and through the openings in the back, Sadie could see boards and props and all manner of materials needed for a production. She wondered what the full scale of the USO shows were like back home. From her limited understanding, Captain America had toured the country beating the drums for war bonds. In a roundabout way he'd helped pay for the hospital's medical supplies and kept gear on the bodies and in the hands of every man in the army. At least that's what Sadie's commanding officers had said.

Privately, she hated the idea that the army was willing to send the USO to perform but wouldn't send backup to rescue their captured men. It felt like a slap in the face and although the men were thrilled to see new women after so long they all felt the sting too. Nobody wanted singing and dancing when most of their friends were missing or dead.

"It's just all wrong," muttered Sadie as she crossed her arms tighter over her chest. The weather had taken another chilly turn overnight and the threat of rain once again loomed over base camp.

"The army is just trying to lift the men's spirits."

Sadie shrugged. "The cheap thrill of a pair of legs wears off eventually," she muttered under her breath so only Peggy could hear. The SSR agent covered her mouth with her hand but Sadie could see the her smirk of agreement.

The covered trucks pulled through camp and out into the open space prepared for them. In the forty-eight hours leading up to the USO's grand arrival many of the camp's tents had been moved to accommodate the large amount of space the show required. Another covered truck went through and Sadie caught a glimpse of several support staff members riding inside.

A cheer rose up from the crowd. The first uncovered truck came into view and Sadie's jaw dropped. Six young women were standing on the benches inside the troop truck, blowing kisses and waving as they held onto the metal rails. The tires of their drab truck plowed through the muddy road but these young women stood out among the olive green background. It had been weeks since Sadie had seen anything but standard military uniforms. The bright red, white, and blue costumes the girls wore were almost eye-watering.

"Good heavens," muttered Evelyn with a low whistle. "You'd think they were performing in Miami the way they're dressed."

Evelyn was right. As the truck grew closer, Sadie could see that the chorus girls wore very little. How they could stand the cold in their miniscule spangled costumes was beyond her. Each woman wore a steel helmet painted bright blue and stamped with a white letter. From so far away, Sadie couldn't read the letters but she was sure it all amounted to something very patriotic. Banners and bunting decorated the trucks announcing the USO's arrival in the grandest way possible. Sadie half-expected a marching band to come after the first truck. The men, however, didn't seem to share Sadie's dispassionate view over the whole affair. She could hear several of the men crowding in front of her.

"Hey sweetheart!"

"Hiya honey!"

"Come down here and give us some sugar!"

"I haven't seen a dame that pretty in months!"

Marjorie made a rude face behind the men's backs. She looked particularly grumpy and Sadie had an educated guess as to why. Although she knew it was stupid, Sadie also couldn't help but compare herself to the beauties riding in the trucks. The last time she'd done her hair and put on make up was sometime in July. Her hands bore the calluses that came with hard work and as she inspected her hands she could see tiny white scars, souvenirs from the bomb that nearly took her life. Sadie's body, though slim, was not full of the bombshell curves the chorus girls possessed. Months of hard work transformed her curves into wiry muscle that could haul a grown man to his feet or support the weight of heavy supply crates. Her skin was weather-worn and freckled from too much time in the sun.

Sadie looked on the stunning chorus girls with envy of her own. She was no longer soft and shapely the way they were. Their radiance cast a warm glow over the base camp that she hadn't had in months. She felt old and wasted in comparison to those women, the kind of women that men clambered for. Was that the kind of woman Bucky normally wanted? Sadie didn't even want to know.

"Oh for God's sake why don't they just line us all up just to really drive the point home?" Marjorie's pointed words couldn't have been more spot on.

"It's all a bit much, isn't it," agreed Evelyn.

The first truck passed only for a second truck to come by, carrying another round of beauties blowing kisses to their adoring crowd. Sadie looked down at her uniform and fingered a patch on her jacket that she'd recently sewn on. Down the row, Sadie could see other nurses doing the same and her temper snapped. "Oh please, I'd rather be useful than be a glorified can-can dancer regardless of how nice they all look!"

Peggy sounded her agreement along with Ruthie. "With the way the men are acting you'd think those women were God's gift to the universe," said Doctor Holmes crossly. "Just this morning I caught two of our bedridden patients trying to sneak out to see this procession. Damn fool waste of time if you ask me, bringing in the whole dog and pony show just for one night."

"See? Now here's a man who knows the real worth of a woman doesn't rest in how high she can kick her leg!" Evelyn proclaimed, beaming at Doctor Holmes.

The good doctor didn't even bother to conceal his smug smile. "I think you'll find that when push comes shove, most men would agree with me."

Sadie relaxed. Doctor Holmes was right. In two days the USO would be gone and the men would forget all about the commotion. The world would return to its usual state and she would remember all of the wonderful things that accompanied the physical changes she'd undergone. Maybe her hands were no longer perfectly smooth, but she could save a life with them and that was well worth the price she paid.

"There he is!" Marjorie exclaimed, rising to the tips of her toes.

More nurses began to chitter away excitedly. Next to Sadie, Peggy went rigid her lips parted in soft surprise. The final truck carried two more chorus girls and one man who stood higher than the rest, waving to the crowd. He bore a large red, white, and blue spangled shield on his arm. Although he wore a mask over his face, his costume did plenty to reveal his unbelievable physique. He flashed a white smile and waved to the crowd, showing off his broad shoulders and strong arms.

"You said you met him before?" Sadie turned to Peggy. "What's his name?"

Peggy kept her large brown eyes trained on Captain America. An unreadable expression took her face. Anxious, excited, and irritated all at once, Peggy pursed her lips together for a moment. "Steve Rogers," she said at last. "His name is Steve Rogers."

X X X

The first time Bucky ever got into a fight was to protect his best friend. In the third grade, Steve had run his mouth off on a school yard bully named Eugene 'Big Gene' Fielding. Big Gene liked to terrorize his classmates into giving up their lunch money and allowance so he could buy sweets from the drugstore around the corner from their school. He took delight in making fun of Dorothy Keller's braids and especially enjoyed pushing around tiny, sickly Steve Rogers. One day Steve snapped and threw himself at the boy's large midsection, resulting in a school yard brawl. Bucky leapt headfirst into the fight, determined to protect Steve from himself.

Even as an adult Bucky could still remember sharp flying fists, Steve's strangled yelling, and Big Gene throwing his weight around with considerable power for an eight-year old boy. It took two teachers to break up the fight, screaming at the top of their lungs. An hour-long detention and a trip to the nurse's office later Bucky took his sweet time going home, afraid to face his parents. Steve had shuffled on to his place, still holding a rag to stymy the bleeding from his nose. Bucky, on the other hand, slid in to take the worst of Big Gene's punches and he sported two enormous black eyes along with some aching ribs. His mother had burst into tears at the sight of him.

He'd been through plenty of fights in his time, usually as a result of Steve's overwhelming sense of nobility and inability to keep his mouth shut. Bucky had faced down opponents bigger and more intimidating than himself but he always insisted that his first fight was the worst. Big Gene's punches hurt worse than any others he'd endured growing up. That was until he'd been turned into mincemeat by a couple of disgruntled guards carrying nightsticks.

Bucky groaned and tried to move but his entire body protested. Every inch of him ached and he could feel the swelling in his face from the blows delivered on the factory floor. Bruises bloomed along his back, aggravated by the uncomfortable surface he lay on. Though the memories of the fight were hazy at best, Bucky had never been in this much pain in his life. He felt paralyzed, his limbs and torso trapped by his own muscles aching and failing to move.

An eerie quiet hung over the room as he tried to wake up, raising a vague level of suspicion. The large hall containing his cell was never quiet. There were too many men crammed into such a small space for total silence. Almost always he could hear broken snores, coughs, and low conversation through all hours of the night. The unsettling silence begged a disturbing question. Where was he? Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he properly wake up?

Groaning, he rolled his head and tried to break through the haze clouding his mind. He felt as though he were just beneath water, eyes open and watching shafts of light dancing over his face. If only he could just reach the surface he could figure out what was going on! Struggling to swim upwards he gasped for air and continued to fight through the cloudiness until at last his eyes snapped open and awareness came to him.

"What the hell?" He muttered, almost incoherently.

Bucky could only lift his head off the table a couple of inches and doing so incited a fresh wave of misery as a sharp ache bloomed between his temples. Cursing under his breath he dropped his head back and took several deep breaths. He tried to wiggle his fingers and toes with success. But when he tried to move his legs to swing over the table and sit up he found he couldn't. Gritting his teeth he lifted his head once more and looked down. Bucky's stomach dropped out.

He was strapped down. Bucky struggled, but the straps were too tight over his body and he was too weak to worm his way free. How had he gotten this way? His last memories came flooding back.

"Oh God," he said, horrified.

Bucky had done everything he could to save Frank O'Connell only to be beaten down. He'd been held back and used as a human punching bag. Then the guards dragged him down the middle of the factory. Frank O'Connell was dead. The world had gone black but Bucky knew where he'd been taken. It was the reason for the quiet and stillness. Bucky turned his head and he could see medical equipment on a metal counter along one wall. Unfamiliar machinery surrounded him. Bucky was in the isolation ward, where men went in but never came out.

"Hello Sargent Barnes." A foreign accent filled Bucky's ears. The hairs on Bucky's arms stood up and a cold sweat broke over his body. A sinister note slipped into the menial tone, an unnecessary reminder that he was not in a friendly place. "You're finally awake."

"Where am I?" He asked, his words still slurring together.

"I thought you would have already figured that out, but you're in the closed ward," said the man as he drew into Bucky's line of sight. Sure enough, it was the balding scientist that Falsworth warned about. "I must admit I'm very pleased you're here. My name is Doctor Zola."

Bucky didn't trust Zola's conversational tone. Zola turned his watery, bespectacled eyes from Bucky and began to tinker around at his work table. "What are you going to do to me?"

" _Do_ to you?" Zola asked. He returned with a syringe in his hand. "Oh, no, no, my dear boy you have it all wrong."

Zola uncapped the syringe and Bucky tried to squirm to no avail. The sleeve of his sweater had been pushed up to reveal the inside of his elbow. "No," Bucky groaned.

The needle bit into his skin and Zola pushed down on the plunger. Bucky gritted his teeth to swallow the his anguished yelling. Liquid fire injected into his vein, surging up his arm and into his chest at an alarming rate.

"I am not going to _do_ anything to you," said Zola. "I'm going to improve you."

Bucky's heart raced and the fire burned in his lungs to the point that Bucky thought flames might actually burst from his chest. His muscles contracted tightly until he could no longer take it. His tortured screams echoed through the hall, dying out just before they reached the factory floor where the rest of his fellow prisoners toiled away, oblivious to his suffering.

 **A/N: So. Yeah. I think by now you all know I'm not afraid to kill characters but O'Connell was the worst for me by far. I** _ **loved**_ **writing O'Connell. I think I've mentioned in previous author's notes that I am very deliberate about every decision I make for S &B and I'm happy to discuss with anyone the rational for my decisions! Feel free to PM me or ask something in a review!**

 **Next chapter features more revelations and dreams along with a long-awaited meeting. We're nearing the end of the Azzano arc and moving into the Howling Commandos arc(s). Just like I spent most of this first half of Songbirds covering what Bucky did before Azzano, I plan to spend a huge chunk of time focusing on the Commandos…it's a shame the movie never got to do more with them.**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think! Like the story but still kind of hate me George R.R. Martin-ing you guys? I get that. Excited for Steve and Sadie's overdue meeting (I am!)? Let me know what you think! Much love – Kappa.**


	16. Visions and Revelations

**A/N: Hello all! Apologies for the delay, things have been really crazy lately and I haven't had much time to write! This chapter is one of the last left in the Azzano arc before we move on to the Commandos! Also, this chapter is the longest to date!**

 **So I've started getting questions about whether/how I'm going to tackle Winter Soldier/Civil War. I don't want to give too much away…but for those of you worrying I will say that a sequel to Songbirds is in the outlining stages and I do intend to go on after I finish this story. How I'm going to get there, however, will remain a mystery!**

 **Thanks a million times over for all of the love! Your reviews and faves and follows really brighten up my day! Much love and thanks to Stencil Your Heart for being such a lovely beta and to Mopargirl1 who is the best sounding board!**

 **Minimal warnings on this chapter save for language and some imagery that could be construed as disturbing.**

 **Disclaimer: I think by now we all know that I don't own** _ **Captain America**_ **.**

 **Chapter 16 – Visions and Revelations**

 _Bucky stood at the end of a long dirt road. Gusts of wind picked up dust from the road that rose around him, blowing his hair across his forehead. Overhead an endless blue sky stretched into the infinite horizon. Squinting into the light, Bucky searched for any landmarks that would tell him where he was. The dust stung his eyes and burned his lungs, but he could see nothing special to identify the flat land that sprawled out in every direction._

 _His legs ached as he tried to walk forward. Heavy and stiff, his steps were stilted as though he hadn't walked in weeks or possibly months. Bucky groaned and forced himself to walk down the road that led to nowhere. As he plowed forward, the dust granules continued to irritate his eyes, nose, and throat. Thick clouds of it kicked up beneath his feet, coating his pants and shirt in a fine layer along with the visible parts of his skin. Rivulets of sweat slipped down his temples, cutting rivers through the dirt on his face though he didn't feel the heat._

 _Through the haze he swore he could hear far away sounds that grew louder and louder the further he walked. Voices carried on the erratic wind, laced with accents and vocabulary so familiar it felt like home. He recognized children shouting and the tell-tale sound of a wooden baseball bat cracking against a ball._

 _"Everyone move in, Rogers is at bat!"_

 _Bucky's mouth fell open. Off the road to his right he was staring at a baseball diamond, dug into a large patch of green grass. He stared in wonder at a gang of raggedy kids leaning against a chain-link fence or sitting directly on the earth, watching the small game unfold. All of the boys were dressed similarly, in threadbare pants and dingy button up shirts. Their hair was unruly, flopping against their dirty foreheads. In the outfield, Bucky could see boys beating their fists into worn out leather gloves, standing at relative ease in light of the boy who was about to step up to the plate._

 _"Don't listen to 'em, just focus on the ball!"_

 _The eleven year old version of Bucky slapped his best friend squarely between the shoulder blades. Bucky winced as tiny Steve Rogers coughed in response and clambered to his feet to take his spot at bat._

 _The kids in the outfield jeered and laughed. Steve picked up the bat that was too large in his fragile hands. He took up the stance Bucky taught him, wagging the bat high over his shoulders and watching the pitcher with unflappable intensity. Bucky had forgotten how small Steve really was at such a young age. His head seemed to big for his narrow shoulders, holding too much brain for his own good, as Bucky used to joke. Even still, Steve possessed a kind of fierce determination that more than made up for his physical shortcomings._

" _Eyes on the ball," Steve said to himself as Bucky drew within earshot. If any of the boys saw him approach the diamond they made no indication, even when Bucky came to stand directly next to Herbert Wilson, a squat boy in Bucky's class._

" _Come on Steve, you can do it!" Herbert yelled, always an ally._

 _Bucky steeled himself for the pitch, thrown by a kid whose name he couldn't remember. Steve dug his heels into the ground and Bucky silently cheered him on. His younger self crossed his arms loosely over his chest, shooting daggers at the kids in the outfield who were making rude gestures and faces towards his friend._

 _The pitcher lobbed the ball towards Steve who swung hard and missed, the momentum of the bat swinging him around in a circle. "C'mon, Rogers! My sister hits better than you and she's five!"_

 _Young Bucky's hands curled into fists the same as Bucky's did now. "Shut up Talbot!" He yelled through cupped hands. The pitcher cackled and started to wind himself up for another pitch which Steve spectacularly missed again._

 _"Strike two!" The kid playing umpire yelled and Steve dropped his head to hide his embarrassment._

 _The rest of the kids on Steve and Bucky's team shouted encouragements to him and he drew himself up once more, riding on the heels of young Bucky's shout. "Give 'em hell, Rogers!"_

 _Steve readjusted his grip on the bat and Bucky grew tense, waiting with bated breath. The pitcher, Talbot, wound his arm back and threw another ringer. Cheers almost drowned out the sound of the wooden bat cracking against the ball as Steve sent it screaming towards the back fence. All of his teammates rushed out to home plate to wait for their friend as he took off, sprinting towards first base, then second, then third. It had taken the outfielders too long to run from their positions to retrieve Steve's ball and even though the boy was panting, he stomped his foot down on home plate before anyone could try to get him out._

 _"Way to go, Rogers!"_

 _"Serves them right!"_

 _"What a hit, Steve!"_

 _All of Steve's teammates, Bucky included, crowded around Steve who was out of breath but beaming at the same time. It was a miracle, something that Bucky had never actually seen in real life because Steve had never hit a home run during his childhood. Another crack split through the air and Bucky raised his chin to watch as thick clouds rushed across the blue sky, obscuring the sun. Darkness fell over the baseball diamond and when Bucky looked back to tell everyone to go home he started. He stood in the middle of the diamond alone._

 _Lightning forked across the sky as thunder boomed once more. The ground trembled beneath his feet, setting him off balance. Rain poured over him as another flash of lightning struck, shooting straight into the ground, through the center of home plate. The heat from the strike burned his face and he tried to throw an arm up to shield himself, but he couldn't. Bright light burned his eyes and he squinted against it. Bolts of lightning hurtled down from the sky, cracking the ground, growing closer and closer until he felt one shoot through his body and a strangled yell forced its way through his teeth that were gritted so tightly he almost broke them._

Bucky's blue eyes snapped wide open. Half of his vision remained obscured by the machine partially covering his face. Jolts of electricity shot from one part of the machine to another, surrounding his face and lancing into his skin.

"Try to relax, Sergeant Barnes," an altogether unwelcome voice broke through.

Dr. Zola stood nearby, hand on the dial of the machine he controlled. When Bucky let out another strained groan, he turned the dial up slightly. One by one, starting from his scalp all the way down to his toes, Bucky's muscles contracted in an involuntary chain reaction. The pain was excruciating and the room was soon filled with his unrestrained screaming. His body seized, thrashing against the restraints holding him down.

"Perhaps that is enough," mused Zola. The doctor remained perfectly calm while he turned the machine off. "You are progressing nicely; the last man died during this procedure."

Bucky slumped against the table, his muscles relaxing and nearly melting towards the floor. Exhaustion compressed his chest like an elephant taking an unwelcome seat. When he winced he could feel the bruises ringing his right eye and left temple. Fibers in his muscles twitched uncontrollably, a nasty byproduct of the electricity that recently coursed through him. As he gasped for air, Bucky couldn't even make his mouth form a proper sentence though he tried in vain.

"W-why," but nothing else would come out of his throat.

"I suppose you are wondering why I am doing this to you," said Zola absently as he jotted furious notes on a wooden clipboard. Using what little strength he had, Bucky's eyes tracked Zola's movements. Every time he thought it wasn't possible to hate the doctor any more, Bucky found himself proven wrong. There were plenty of people in his life that Bucky disliked, but he'd never outright hated someone the way he hated this man. "I could give you a long speech about how sacrifice is necessary for the improvement of mankind and that progress cannot be achieved without some pain."

Some pain? _Some_ pain? Bucky gaped in disbelief at the madman. He had no idea pain like this existed and that included being shot. "But the truth is that I am a man driven by curiosity and I have been given the resources to develop an army that will shape a new world order. You are just a piece of that process. You are stronger than the others though, and you have a spirit they lacked. I am not wrong in assuming that you are fighting for something bigger than yourself, yes? Perhaps to protect your family and your friends. I can sense your loyalty, I saw it the day you fought to protect your friend."

Bucky squirmed at the mere mention of Frank O'Connell. "Go to hell," he managed to grind out of his raw throat.

"Perhaps it is that resilience and loyalty that has allowed you to stay alive this long. I hope you make it, Sergeant Barnes. I really do."

Bucky turned his head away, unwilling to let the man see the moisture stinging his eyes. Frank O'Connell's death burned another hole in his heart, next to a dozen other holes left in the wake of lost friends and comrades. He thought of Steve, so far away and safe from the ravages of the war and silently thank God it was him on the table. Bucky thought about his parents and sister, hoping that they were safe and comfortable without him. His mind drifted to Sadie, wondering if she was still angry with him over their fight. He wanted to stay alive for them, to see all of them again. Was Dr. Zola right? Did he have the resilience to hold on long enough? He could only hope so.

The man in question left the laboratory without another word to Bucky, leaving him in darkness and silence. Parts of his body were going numb, a welcome relief from his earlier pain. Sleep began to pull Bucky back under and he didn't try to fight it. He knew that Dr. Zola would return in short order and God only knew what else he had in store.

X X X

The morning after the USO's grand entrance, Sadie woke to the sound of rain drops pounding on the roof of her tent. In the cots to her left, Ruthie and Evie were fast asleep. Marjorie slept on Sadie's right and she too was sitting up, pulling the pins from her hair while she yawned.

"Good morning," she said, offering a sleepy smile.

"Morning." Sadie stretched her arms high over her head. A handful of pops and cracks accompanied her stretch and she shook her head. "The second we get back to civilization I'm getting a massage."

Marjorie swung her legs over her cot and got to her feet. "Count me in, just as long as I can drink champagne before, during, and afterwards."

Sadie smiled in earnest and hurriedly stripped out of her wool shirt. Cold air slipped through the cracks in their tent and prompted her to dress quickly, stuffing her shirt into her pants and tugging her heavy field jacket on over. A few fast brush strokes and a handful of pins transformed her hair from a mess of curls into a neat chignon at the nape of her neck. Sadie took a few moments' extra care with her appearance that morning, opting for a clean uniform, crisp white apron, and neat hairstyle. She brushed her teeth and splashed cold water over her face before following Marjorie to eat a quick breakfast of particularly stale oatmeal at the field kitchen.

"So you're giving Captain America a tour of the hospital? I'm jealous, I wouldn't mind spending a few minutes getting close to him," said Marjorie jealously as the two women strode towards the first ward tent.

Sadie rolled her eyes. "He's just a man, Marjorie. No different than any of the others we've been travelling with."

"That's not true and you know it. Still, it's probably better you're giving him the tour than me. I'd just end up getting tongue-tied and say the wrong thing."

Linking their arms together, Sadie gave her friend a gentle shove with her shoulder. "I'm sure he'd find it quite charming. And if he's anything like what they say, I bet he goes out of his way to introduce himself to everyone on staff along with all of the patients."

A misty, faraway expression drifted across Marjorie's face. Sadie did her best not to laugh as it was very obvious Marjorie was day dreaming about some fantastic first meeting and equally fantastic whirlwind romance with the star spangled man. "A girl can only hope!"

Together, they ducked into the first ward tent. Sadie made sure her apron strings were tied tightly around her waist as she and Marjorie left each other to begin their day. Charts needed updating, men needed attending, and wounds needed checking and all in short order for Sadie. Doing what she did best, Sadie set to work, starting at one end of her row of patients and working her way down.

Doug Lovitz greeted her with a weary hello and stony face. "I hear that Stark's going to try and weasel as much information out of us as he can this morning," he said tiredly as Sadie came to check his vital signs. He breathed in and out as she pressed her stethoscope to various places on his chest. Physically he was as healthy as a horse, but the hospital still required regular readings of their patients interred for mental illness. "Can't wait for that."

Sarcasm dripped from his voice and Sadie frowned. "If you're not feeling up to it I can have a word with Doctor Holmes."

Shaking his head, Doug tried to replace his glower with a steely expression, but it didn't fool Sadie. "It's bad enough I'm a certified head case. I don't want everyone thinking I'm even more delicate because I can't answer a few questions."

Sadie sighed and pulled the earpieces of her stethoscope out of her ears and let it rest around her neck. Doug's hand was cool and clammy when she took it in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Nobody will think the worse of you, Douglas. I can tell the Doctor you're coming down with something."

"Thanks, nurse, but I'll be alright."

Still, Sadie could see the gratitude flash in his brown eyes. She knew it wasn't much but Doug still appreciated having someone always in his corner, even if she couldn't do enough to protect him. "Well, if you change your mind or if you want me there, just say the word."

Doug raised an eyebrow, sitting up a little higher in his bed. "Aren't you supposed to be giving Captain Fantastic the grand tour?"

Sadie shrugged, waggling her eyebrows humorously at the soldier. "Captain Fantastic's got nothing on you."

A pleasant flush stained Doug's cheeks and he looked down at his lap to try and hide the evidence of her flattery. She left him to continue her rounds but kept a careful eye on his behavior through the early part of her shift. The closer the hour drew to seven-thirty, the more anxious Sadie became. Tension hung heavy over the ward, for the survivors of HYDRA's attack had no idea what Howard Stark wanted to ask them and whether it would dredge up traumatic memories. Doctor Holmes swept about the ward looking like an oversized albino bat in his white coat, a permanent scowl on his face as he muttered about the grand inconvenience of Starks impending arrival.

True to his word, Howard Stark arrived promptly at seven-thirty, straightening the knot of his wide patterned tie as he entered the first ward. Sadie only bothered to take passing notice of him, scowling deeply when Doctor Holmes led the scientist to the first of her patients. Doctor Holmes was one of the best physicians Sadie had ever met, but even his presence with her patients wasn't enough to satisfy her concerns. Although the Doctors did just fine, they didn't know the patients the way the nurses did. Nobody had spent more time with Sadie's patients than Sadie. But, as it was, Captain Rogers would arrive at the tent any moment for a tour of the shabby facilities.

Sadie supposed it was a good press relations opportunity. Folks back home would devour any image of Captain America shaking hands with the wounded and sharing a handful of cursory, polite words. After enduring the real horrors of war, the thought that these men would be used as fodder to reassure the civilians back home made Sadie sick to her stomach. Just imagining how frail and sick they would look in comparison to Captain Rogers in all of his broad shouldered glory irritated Sadie even more. From a distance, he seemed perfectly innocent and unassuming as he mingled with a few of the officers and his handlers. That didn't mean Captain Rogers would be immune to a ploy for good press, though he certainly didn't need it.

While Howard Stark moved on to his next interviewee, Sadie finished checking the bandages on her last patient. Satisfied that he was healing quite nicely, she left to replenish the supplies in her apron pockets and wait for Captain Rogers' arrival. She set up next to a large table holding crates that held small boxes of various intravenous medicines.

Just when Captain Rogers was due to arrive, Howard and Doctor Holmes sat down with Doug Lovitz. Sadie watched with hawk like eyes for any slight change in Doug's posture, facial expressions, and behavior, ready to step in at a moment's notice. Aside from Lieutenant McAllister, Lovitz was the sole member of F Company to return and had been at the forefront of the battle. His isolation from his friends took a greater toll on him than on most. Sadie couldn't imagine living with the guilt if he were the only man in his company to survive. Her insides constricted painfully, acknowledging that if Doug were the only survivor that meant Bucky was dead also.

Sadie never heard Stark's question but midway through Doug's answer he crumpled. He started writing, throwing his hands over his ears and shouting at the top of his lungs. Howard shot backwards as Doctor Holmes threw an arm out to protect the man in case Doug lashed out.

"Sadie!" Doctor Holmes' shout spurred her into immediate action.

X X X

"Alright, the nurse following you around is Second Lieutenant Sarah Grace Reid. She serves as the head nurse of the first ward at the hospital and comes highly acclaimed by her superiors. Her CO told me this morning that Nurse Reid has been with the 80th Field Hospital since boot camp, has earned a Purple Heart, and is a candidate for the Silver Star."

Steve let out a low whistle as his handler rattled off his tour guide's impressive list of credentials and accolades. The pair of them strode towards the 80th Field Hospital's tents, easily identifiable by the large red crosses emblazoned in the center of white circles on the tent tops. "What'd she do to get nominated for the Silver Star?"

"A couple of months ago the whole hospital got blown to smithereens, a slew of hospital staff and nurses died. Nurse Reid survived even though half her ward got blown away."

Steve winced at his handler's colorful and blunt description. He highly doubted that anyone working for the field hospital would appreciate his take on things, likely including Nurse Reid. The large tents loomed ahead and he started to prepare himself for what was to come. During his USO tour of Italy, Steve had performed for numerous crowds and visited every hospital he could. Even with his knowledge of what he would encounter, Steve could never fully prepare himself to see his countrymen wasting away in small, uncomfortable hospital beds.

"Captain Rogers, if you would just rethink having a camera follow you around. The folks back home love this kind of stuff and it cheers a lot of people up to see our boys in good hands."

A stony expression settled over Steve's face. "No," he said firmly. "These men have done enough for their country, I'm not going to exploit them for a good picture in Sunday's paper."

His handler cursed under his breath but didn't try and fight the subject any further. This battle was an ongoing one, between the USO's desperation to put forth a happy picture of the war for people back home and Steve's insistence that while he signed up to be the army's poster boy, enlisted men hadn't. Besides, his handlers only wanted pictures of attractive soldiers and even more attractive nurses and there was no guarantee that Steve would see either at this field hospital. Steve knew that looks had nothing to do with ability, but the USO was not so easily convinced.

They stopped outside the first ward tent and his handler shifted his weight uncertainly. Steve fought the urge to smirk; none of the people he travelled with had been able to stomach the unusual sights and smells of the hospital wards. "I'll just wait for you back at the stage. Ask Nurse Reid to take you back there when you're finished."

Steve opened his mouth to argue that escorting him around camp wasn't in Nurse Reid's job description, but he didn't get the chance. For a few seconds he watched his handler scurry away before he turned around, straightened his Class A uniform and ducked into the large hospital tent.

"Sadie!" A man's voice carried over the din of shouting. Directly to his right a woman with a head of dark brown hair jumped into action, snatching a glass vial from an open box on a supply table along with a needle. Further down the ward, a Doctor was struggling mightily to restrain a soldier in the throes of a panic attack. A few feet behind him, Howard Stark stood by, white in the face as he was repeatedly told to stay out of the way. Another technician struggled to get to the scene and Steve leapt into action before he realized what he was doing.

He and the woman barreled towards the struggle at the same time and she let out a particularly colorful curse when he bumped into her. Their eyes met and he found himself staring into a pair of twin hurricanes.

"Stay out of the way!" She barked with a surprisingly commanding voice. Too stunned to respond, Steve faltered and watched helplessly as a technician joined the doctor to hold the struggling man down. The nurse uncapped the needle with her teeth, holding onto the cap in her mouth as she plunged the needle through the top of the glass vial and drew clear liquid into the glass shaft. "Hold him steady!"

The woman's voice held a faint note of a southern accent. Steve could hardly believe his eyes as he watched her drop to her knees, planting one against the man's free shoulder. "Easy, Douglas," she said as she forced her weight down to still his neck. In a swift motion, she slid the needle into his skin and depressed the plunger. Seconds later, the man stilled and his head rolled to the side, only the whites of his eyes showing.

"Alright, let's get him up and back in bed. Good work, Sadie." The doctor said. "On two."

At his count, the doctor and the technician hauled the sedated man back onto his bed. The nurse, Sadie, drew the sheet and blanket over the man's limp form and gently smoothed the hair from his forehead. "You're alright now, Douglas. You're alright," she promised and gave his hand a firm squeeze. Assured that her charge was resting well, she turned the full force of her glare on the Doctor and Stark. "Are you two quite finished terrifying my patients? Or should I go prep more sedatives?"

Both men averted their gaze from her and Steve could just see Stark mumbling something but stopped immediately when his eyes flickered back to the nurse. The nurse's impeccable posture allowed her to stand taller than she might normally and it gave her an even more intimidating air. She was unlike any girl he'd ever met in Brooklyn except for one. Steve tilted his head to the side, drudging up memories of another authoritative voice. Unbidden to him, he thought of his mother telling Bucky and him off for misbehaving when they were children.

Although he couldn't hear what the doctor said to placate the woman, it must have worked because she nodded curtly and turned away. Steve couldn't take his eyes off her. He'd been fascinated by the lines of lithe muscle he'd seen in her forearms, by the sheer strength she possessed to help restrain and sedate a grown man. An unknown serum gave Steve his strength but this woman had iron in her blood and it more than matched the fierceness of her stormy eyes. And then, much to his surprise, she walked towards him.

"You must be Captain Rogers," she said, holding out a hand. "I'm Nurse Reid."

Slightly slack-jawed, Steve took her hand and marveled at the strength of her grip. Calluses dotted her palm and fingers, and while they were rough they were not unwelcome. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Nurse Reid," he said slowly, uncertainly.

The serious expression on her face broke and she gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for shouting at you just then. I tend to get tunnel vision when it comes to my patients."

Somehow, Steve expected nothing less from her. Wisps of dark hair escaped her up do, framing her face. Her smile highlighted the gentle hollow of her high cheekbones and softened her stubborn chin. Freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose, betraying her youth despite her apparent authority. She was beautiful now despite being hardened by the war and Steve suspected that before joining the army she'd been a real head-turner. Even then, she couldn't hold a candle to Agent Carter in his humble opinion.

"Captain Rogers?"

Steve started and realized he'd been staring. "You have nothing to apologize for, Nurse Reid. I shouldn't have gotten in your way."

He was rewarded with another smile and she jerked her head towards the tent flaps. "Do you mind if we skip the first ward tent? After all the commotion I think it's best if we let the men rest."

"Absolutely," he agreed. "Lead the way, Nurse Reid."

"You're welcome to call me Sadie," she said as she started for the tent's entrance, pausing long enough to untie the strings of her white apron wrapped twice around her small waist. She left the apron on a supply table and then walked outside into the cool morning. The rain had let up only a little while before, leaving a snap in the air and watery sunshine trying to break through the clouds.

Steve could tell she was still irritated and he wisely chose not to bring it up. At some point he would see Howard Stark before he left and he could ask then. After all, the treatment of patients wasn't exactly Steve's business. So he let her continue to stew over it until the tension left her shoulders and her face relaxed. Comfortable silence settled over them as she led the way towards the far end of the field hospital. "I can show you the more boring parts if you'd like. Nobody told me exactly what to do."

Steve clapped his hands together and shrugged. "I'm up for anything. To be honest, it's nice to talk to someone who isn't with the USO."

"I'll bet," she said without thinking, a sharp edge on the back of her words. Realizing she might have gone too far, Sadie turned a lovely shade of pink and began to back track her words. Steve held up a hand to stop her wondering how many hearts she'd unknowingly won and broken during her tenure as a field nurse.

"Don't apologize. I hate all the red tape that goes with the gig."

"But you've helped raise a lot of money for the war effort," she pointed out, recovering from her blunder. "That has to feel pretty good."

Steve shrugged. "I'd rather be on the front lines, but it didn't work out that way."

"Why not? I confess I didn't do my homework on you before today."

Sadie was delightfully candid, a quality he didn't see often in women. He bet she could keep any man on his toes and wondered what Bucky would make of her. Steve shoved the painful thought of his best friend back down. Whether by design or circumstance Steve hadn't heard a peep from Bucky since he left for Africa in July. Steve supposed Bucky chose not to write on purpose; he wasn't exactly the world's most eloquent guy and moreover he probably didn't want to rub his experience in Steve's face. After all, Bucky still thought Steve was just a skinny kid from Brooklyn. "Well, it's kind of a long story."

She gestured to the mostly empty area around them. "As you can see, Captain. I've got nothing but time. Come on, I'll even treat you to terrible coffee from the field kitchen."

"Well, how can I refuse an offer like that?"

The pair abandoned the tour and ambled towards the field kitchen, stopping off for coffee before returning to tour the tents. As they walked they took turns speaking, Sadie to explain the various functions of the hospital, unknowingly showing off her vast knowledge and Steve, telling her about how he came to be Captain America. Despite her initially intimidating appearance Sadie was a wonderful conversationalist, likely owing to her obvious southern roots. The conversation turned many corners until they came back to his USO tour.

"How many units have you visited since coming to Africa and Italy?"

Steve blew out a low whistle. "To be honest, I've lost count. All of the unit names and numbers blur together and most of the time I don't even remember where I am. The only reason I can remember Azzano is because it took us so long to get here."

"Yeah, it's a hike," she agreed, leading the way into the long-term patients tent. Half of the beds were empty and the other half occupied by men sporting injuries as varied as they were. "Most of these men are surgical patients," she explained as they passed by the beds of a few sleeping soldiers. They all wore patient smocks or white pajamas, not a uniform in sight. "There is no evacuation or base hospital behind us, so we have to wait for air support to evacuate and most of these men have earned a one-way ticket home. A couple of the doctors and nurses have some familiarity with physical therapy and help them with rehabilitative exercises along with regular patient care. So far we've been lucky and the men have all avoided infection and illness, but we keep them separate because they're more susceptible to colds and the flu."

Steve listened intently as she spoke. The depth of Sadie's regard for these men was evident. He'd heard other nurses and doctors talk about soldiers as though they were a dime a dozen, but not Sadie Reid. "My mom was a nurse," he admitted after he spent time talking to a couple of the awake patients. "She worked in the TB ward back home in Brooklyn. She died around my eighteenth birthday."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," said Sadie. Neither of them looked at each other as they continued on to the end of the tent.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually. She had that same commanding voice. Her name was Sarah, too."

Sadie didn't look at him, but he could see the warmth remain in her cheeks. "Do you miss her?"

"Every day," said Steve. "But I was lucky, I had other people looking out for me. Even when I didn't want the help."

"That is lucky," she agreed.

Their conversation derailed when they entered the second ward tent and most of Steve's time was taken up by shaking hands and exchanging brief but meaningful words with the men. Performances for soldiers meant little to Steve; he knew he paled in comparison to the chorus girls. But the hospital was where he knew he made a small difference. Men held up comic books, post cards, and trading cards for him to sign all while assuring Steve that the second they got better they were gonna get back out on the front line and singlehandedly win the war. After he met the patients he took the time to meet the hospital staff, from the top doctors right down to all of the technicians.

"You know, I have to admit I wasn't sure about giving you the grand tour earlier today," said Sadie when they left the second ward tent. "But I'm glad I did."

Steve's face grew hot. "It's really not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," she said. "After everything that's happened, everything that these men have been through. It means so much to have you give so much of your time."

Something about her words told Steve not to push the subject further, that there she was pained just speaking about it in general terms. He let it go and they finished the tour discussing the field hospital and safer subjects. They bade each other goodbye, and he promised to stop by the hospital again before he left base camp, wanting to meet the rest of the patients in the first ward tent. Sadie promised to be his guide once more, leaving him with a warm smile. Steve strode back to the stage area alone, feeling better than he had in weeks.

X X X

 _Consciousness came slowly to Bucky. The edges of his mind sharpened and drew inwards as he became aware of his body in time and space. Muscles he didn't even realize he had hurt, protesting at even the smallest movements. Before he even opened his eyes, Bucky could feel the moisture hanging heavy in the room and a dank smell accompanied it. Water dripped somewhere in the distance, the droplets falling into a shallow puddle on a hard floor. He wanted to open his eyes and get up but his body was slow to respond. One of his arms slipped off the table and fell to his side, jerking him into total awareness._

 _Bucky bolted upright, wiping his face with his free hands. The straps that should have held him down to the table hung listlessly off the edges, the long tails dragging across the wet floor. Swinging one leg over and then the other, Bucky eased his feet to the floor, testing the strength of his legs. He wobbled uncertainly for one second but found his balance easily enough. Raking a hand through his hair he looked around to find himself inside one of the birdcages the rest of the men slept in. The hall, however, was larger and darker than Bucky remembered. Only a single light shone down into the center of each successive cage and he could make out a table inside each cage as far as he could see._

 _Staggering to the door Bucky grasped it and pushed, surprised when it fell outward. He looked around for guards but found none and he tentatively left the cage to inspect the one closest to him. A person lay strapped to the table, dressed in his military uniform with his chest rising and falling steadily. Bucky's hands slipped over the bars as he moved around the cage to see Dum Dum Dugan's normally ruddy face deathly pale in his sleep. The next cage contained Jacques Dernier and the next contained Gabe Jones._

 _A bitter taste welled up in his mouth as he stumbled forward. Bucky grasped the bars to the door of Dugan's cage and pulled. Despite throwing all of his weight into it, the door wouldn't budge and he could see no means of opening the lock in sight. "Hang on Dugan, I'm going to find help."_

 _Bucky knew his friend couldn't hear him, but he turned on his heel and started moving down the aisle of cages, startled to see his friends from the military and from home restrained on a table in each cage. Faces of the dead appeared and he fell backwards hard when he rounded on Corporal Gerald Meyers who lay with his head tilted back, the wound in his neck exposed and gushing a never ending supply of blood. Nurse Betty Carnahan lay stone still on a table and Bucky had to look away from her form. Her charred skin peeled away from her muscles and her golden hair was mostly burnt off._

 _Sick to his stomach and determined to help who he could, Bucky forced himself onwards only to come to a dead halt a few cages later. "No," he said hoarsely and threw himself against the door, struggling once more to open it. "Rebecca, wake up!"_

 _His younger sister, Rebecca, reminded him of Snow White as she slept. Her skin was nearly translucent it was so pale, highlighting her brunette hair. Beyond her his mother and father both lay motionless in their own prisons. A large door loomed ahead and Bucky knew if he could just reach it, help would be on the other side. The door seemed further and further away as he forced himself to leave his family, only to be confronted by the last two cages in the cavernous hall._

 _Sadie's dark curls spilled over the side of the table, revealing her white face. Her long eyelashes rest on hollow cheeks while her soft lips parted as her chest struggled to rise and fall. Bucky's eyes followed the lines of her emaciated body and he forced down the vomit that rose in his throat. A large needle stuck out of the vein in her arm, taped down and attached to a clear tube that ran to the floor. He noted with a sick feeling that the tube was attached to nothing and her blood trickled out of the tube, adding to a puddle on the floor that continued to spread until it threatened to cross through the bars and touch the toes of his boots._

 _Bucky thought his heart would explode in his chest. This couldn't be happening! It wasn't happening! Sadie was safe, she should still be at base camp!_

" _She's dying."_

 _The voice behind him turned Bucky's blood to ice. Pivoting on his heel, he tore his eyes off the woman he loved for perhaps the only person who could steal his attention. Steve Rogers was dwarfed by the large straps holding his small body down. He was exactly as Bucky remembered, from his blonde hair to the ever-present determination in his eyes. A similar tube stuck out of his arm, though the blood pool on the floor was much smaller._

" _Steve!" Bucky breathed and came to his cage, trying his door without success. "I've got to go get help."_

 _Steve's eyes softened and he shook his head once. "Get out of here. Save yourself!"_

" _What? No, I'm not leaving without you, all of you!" He yelled back. "I just need to get something to open the doors and we can get out of here. All of us."_

 _A sad smile touched Steve's ghostly lips. "You can't save us all, Buck. But you can save yourself."_

 _Bucky beat a fist against the bars, vehement in his denial. "NO! I'm not going without you."_

 _Behind Bucky, Sadie coughed. Whipping his head around he watched in horror as the blood trickled off to a slow drip. Her small chest shuddered for another breath and then fell, still as a statue. Her head lolled off to the side. The light from her half-open grey eyes flickered before it died out, leaving them glassy and staring into nothing._

 _Pain bloomed in his arm and as he tried to hang on to save whomever he could, light flooded his eyes._

A needle bit into the inside of Bucky's elbow as his eyes flew open and he jolted into reality. Groaning, he rolled his neck and dropped his eyes to see his own blood filling the glass shaft of a syringe.

"You are a very active dreamer, Sergeant Barnes."

Dr. Zola had returned. Bucky's heart hammered inside his chest. It was a dream, he told himself repeatedly. It was only a dream. Steve, his family, Sadie, his friends, and comrades were all alive. They were well and safe, far away from his current hell.

"What the fuck are you doing now?" Bucky asked, letting his head fall back against the table.

"Taking samples of your blood," said Zola as though it were obvious. "You have done so well through the preliminary stages that I have decided to move on with the next phase. The serum I am going to inject in you will enhance everything about you, Sergeant Barnes. Your strength, your stamina, your endurance will all be improved. You will heal faster and be able to do things ordinary men cannot."

Bucky jerked away from Zola but there was nowhere to go. "I don't want any of that," he said, gritting his teeth as the needle came out of his tender skin.

"Do not be ridiculous, everyone wants that. If you survive you will be the crowning jewel of my research, the beginning of a new era."

Zola turned away from Bucky but he could hear the clink of glass and the rush of liquid. Adrenaline flooded his body, prompting his response to flee. For a second, Bucky was certain he could break free of his restraints, but how far would be make it? His body was weak and any great, last ditch effort would sap the last of his strength.

In the end, he didn't have a choice. His body seized once more as Zola took a vial filled with a glowing blue substance and injected it directly into the vein. Liquid fire ignited in his body and Bucky burned from the inside out. The heat became unbearable but the first injection was followed by another and then another until Bucky was amazed that he didn't spontaneously burst into flame.

Zola wasted no time and Bucky's strangled cries for help tore his throat raw as the doctor placed a new machine over his face. His shouting echoed through the halls but there was no one there to help him and Bucky succumbed to the fire, knowing that nobody would come.

X X X

The rain returned shortly after the disastrous USO show. After cringing the entire way through the show with Evelyn, Sadie decided to stop by the first ward tent to check on Douglas Lovitz. When she arrived someone was already there. Lieutenant Henry McAllister got up from Doug's bedside, wiping his hands off on his trousers. Sadie slid a foot backwards to turn on her heel and leave but it was too late, she'd been seen.

"Nurse Reid!" Lieutenant McAllister waved to her. Left with no other choice, Sadie made her way to him. Crossing her arms over her chest Sadie rocked back on her heels. "I was just coming by to see Dougie."

Just past Lieutenant McAllister's imposing form, Sadie could see that Douglas Lovitz was sleeping. Sadie sighed in relief at the sight of his relaxed face. After his sedative wore off, Doug had slipped in and out of fitful sleep though there wasn't much anyone could do for him. Perhaps exhaustion finally won over, coaxing the struggling man into deep sleep. Whatever the cause, Sadie was glad for it, the man would feel better after a full night's rest. So would she for that matter.

"He conked out a few minutes ago," said Lieutenant McAllister, catching the direction of Sadie's gaze.

Sadie nodded but realized she was staring off into space. Recovering herself, Sadie returned her attention to the Lieutenant. Objectively, Lieutenant McAllister was an attractive man. Even Sadie could admit that his broad shoulders and sweep of golden blonde hair suited him well. He was built like a football player and Sadie suspected that he played college ball, he had ivy league written all over him. But there was something about him that did nothing for Sadie that she could never quite put a finger on. Perhaps it was his abundant eagerness or the way he automatically tried to win her whole attention any time they were close.

"Good, Corporal Lovitz could use the rest," she remarked, letting her voice slip into a clinical tone.

McAllister was not deterred by her shift towards distant. "I hope you're doing well?"

It was a stupid question, she thought dourly. Of course she wasn't doing well. Nobody at base camp was doing well. Not with the majority of the 107th and 92nd missing with no apparent hope of a rescue. Even weeks later the air hanging over the base camp remained strained and depressed. Sadie desperately wanted to tell him off with some sarcastic comment but she bit her tongue.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant. Thank you for asking. I'd come to check on Corporal Lovitz, but it turns out you've done my job for me. So, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to head back to the women's camp."

Sadie didn't wait for an awkward goodbye. She left the ward tent and froze when McAllister's voice followed her outside. "Nurse Reid, wait!"

He jogged out after her, into the steady drizzle. Sadie let out a small indignant shout when he gently took her wrist and guided her to the closest tent, a supply tent for the hospital. "Lieutenant McAllister, what are you doing?"

"I wanted to say how sorry I am," he said hurriedly. "I know that some of the men in the F Company were friends of yours. Ever since coming back from the line I've wanted to talk to you, to tell you that if you need someone to talk to. Well, I'm always around."

Sadie's jaw dropped. What was the Lieutenant getting at? They'd hardly shared more than a handful of brief conversations and he no more about her than the next man. His attraction to her was as plain as day but even this was a bit too much for Sadie. "You're kind to offer, Lieutenant. But I'm really alright."

It was a bold faced lie whether he knew it or not. Sadie wasn't fine, she was far from it. That was a subject of conversation with Evelyn, not the man before her. The ragged edges of her heart began to ache. Sadie would have given just about anything for Bucky to be there, making a wise crack about McAllister's transparent behavior.

Apparently Lieutenant McAllister didn't know how to take a hint. He shuffled his weight on his feet and placed a hand on her shoulder. Sadie stiffened under his unexpected touch. "I'm doing a pretty bad job of this. What I'm trying to say is that I'd like to spend time with you, Nurse Reid. I-I know we don't know each other well but I'd like to get to know you better."

Sadie stared at him. Stupidly, she thought about how may girls would probably just die to take her place. Lieutenant McAllister was likely a wonderful choice. He was handsome, kind, harmless, attentive, and Sadie supposed she should feel more gratified to receive his attention. But she didn't because he was the wrong man.

The problem with Lieutenant McAllister was that he didn't have blue eyes and a devil-may-care smile. He would never offer to take her to New York's finest museums and whisper false facts about the paintings in her ear. Lieutenant McAllister hadn't spent weeks guessing every state below the Mason-Dixon line just to learn where she was from. He wouldn't find it funny that Sadie refused to call him by his name. Lieutenant McAllister would have never flirted with her at the New York Point of Embarkation and taken it with good grace that she'd probably ruined more than a few poker games for him. The man before her hadn't patiently wiped another person's blood from her face and hands, only to then hold her while she fell apart at the seams. The problem with Lieutenant McAllister didn't rest in his want for positive qualities. The problem was that Lieutenant McAllister wasn't Bucky Barnes and nobody else would do for Sadie.

Evelyn's advice came rushing back to her, as did her own words. _"I know that you didn't join the army to meet and fall in love with someone. But, honestly Sade, would it be the worst thing in the world if you did?"_ _"I've never never been in love before so it's hard to tell. But I wanted the chance to find out."_ Now she understood. Sadie understood that the constant longing she felt was for Bucky. She could grasp the unassailable truth that she didn't need the chance to find out if she was in love because she was already there.

As gently as possible, Sadie removed Lieutenant McAllister's hand from her shoulder and squeezed it once before releasing him. Immediate his face fell. Sadie reached for the right words to say. Perhaps she was in love with another man but she didn't want to be cruel to Lieutenant McAllister either. "You're a wonderful man, Lieutenant. But it would be wrong for me to spend my time with you when I can't give you what I think you're asking."

The broad-shouldered man deflated in front of her. Sadie tried not to frown. "Did I do or say something wrong?"

"Oh no," she said emphatically, resting her hand over her heart. "No, you've done nothing wrong at all! I just don't know if it's the best idea to spend time together if you and I are in different places, that's all."

Lieutenant McAllister studied her face, trying to see something though she wasn't sure what. Then he spoke and nearly knocked Sadie off her feet. "There's someone else, isn't there."

There was no censure in his voice, though Sadie would have understood. The good Lieutenant was disappointed but he seemed almost unsurprised. Sadie looked past him, wondering how to answer his question. How could she explain that she loved a man who was a friend of McAllister's and who was very likely already dead? Sadie's heart rebelled against the thought. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear she offered a sad smile. "It's more the hope of someone else, if that makes any sense."

Lieutenant McAllister rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Sadie through his lashes. "Not really. But whoever he is, he's a lucky guy."

Sadie touched his arm and rose to the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. "I can certainly say the same thing about the woman who wins your heart, Lieutenant."

He flushed a pleasant shade of pink. "It's not much of a consolation right now, but I'd like to think you're right."

"Trust me, Lieutenant. I know I'm right." Sadie ducked out of the supply tent and made her way to the women's camp, the rain pouring over her. Was that all she was holding onto? The hope of an already doomed romance with Bucky? Dread that she'd staved off settled into her heart, dousing the fire that burned in her heart. Each step grew heavier than the last and Sadie wanted to curl up beneath her blanket and never come out.

The women's camp came into view and Sadie could see Evelyn and Ruthie sprinting towards her. Both women reached her at the same time, grasping Sadie to stay upright after their abrupt halt.

"Sadie! There you are! We've been looking for you for ages!"

Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off a coming headache. "Do you think you can save gossip hour for later? I just really want to sleep until tomorrow's shift."

But Evelyn waved Sadie off, interrupting her with no pretense. "Never mind that! We just heard the wildest news!"

"What is it?" Sadie asked, knowing the fastest way to get rid of her friends was to placate them. Both Ruthie and Evelyn were out of breath but shared a similar air of excitement.

"We went looking for Agent Carter," gasped Ruthie.

"To have dinner. Only-"

"She wasn't there!"

"Then we heard from Danny Martin who's a runner in the SSR?" Evie placed a hand over her chest trying to calm herself down. "That Peggy snuck out of base camp with Howard Start and Captain Rogers."

Ruthie nodded. "They took Howard Stark's personal plane!"

So far Sadie wasn't seeing what the big hoopla was about. "So? Howard Stark took them for a little joy ride?"

Both women shook their heads in unison. "Stark's plane was headed towards the enemy front line! They're going to go get our boys!"

X X X

 _Bucky couldn't catch his breath. His chest heaved from exertion as he rolled onto his back, throwing one arm over his head and the other across his chest. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead and he couldn't help but smile as he blinked into the rays of morning sun that spilled through high windows. He had no idea what lay outside of the room he was currently occupying but it hardly mattered._

 _He found himself laying in a comfortable bed strewn with plush white bedding. He was certain that never once had he slept in such a nice bed. The down feather pillows cradled his head and the expensive sheets slipped against his naked skin. Warmth rose up from the mattress and closed around him, leaving his muscles loose. A dull but altogether pleasant ache persisted in his limbs. The exhaustion that weighed him deeper into the mattress was a welcome sensation and he turned his head to the right, blue eyes drinking in the sight of his partner._

 _The sheets and thick cover rustled and his smile grew wider. A figure emerged from within the depths of the covers. First, Bucky caught glimpse of peaches and cream skin followed by a head of dark brown hair. Thick curls tumbled over the pillow next to his, releasing a wave of intoxicating scent. Honeysuckles and lavender in the summer transported him to another place altogether, reminding him of lazy summer mornings. His eyes devoured the details of her face, taking in her clear brow and sparkling gray eyes. Her full lips softened and his eyes trickled down the length of her slender neck and shoulders, across her naked collarbone before her smooth skin disappeared beneath the white sheets._

 _"What are you looking at?" Sadie asked softly. She blinked her swirling stormy eyes slowly, a lazy smile drawing at the corners of her mouth before biting her lower lip and sending Bucky's heart racing once more._

 _And although Bucky didn't remember having actually done so, there was no doubt in his mind that they were lovers. The length of her bare body moved against his, electrifying his nerves. "You," he said simply, sliding one hand into her hair as she leaned over him. "You're gorgeous."_

 _"Flattery will get you nowhere, buck sergeant," she teased._

 _"I'm pretty sure it got me everywhere," he muttered. Sadie poked her tongue out at him but continued to smile all the same._

 _Sadie was as beautiful as he'd ever seen her, the perfect picture of youth and vitality. Fresh longing burst into his chest and worked its way deep into the pit of his stomach. Bucky wanted to feel all of her all at once. She brushed the hair from his forehead before stroking his face, the tips of her fingers running tantalizingly light over his skin. His pulse jumped as her fingertips slid along the length of his jaw, down the curve of his neck and back up. Understanding shone in Sadie's eyes, as though she could see something in him that he clearly could not._

 _"You've been so brave," she said lovingly._

 _Bucky was desperate to memorize how she looked in the morning light. He wanted a photograph of this exact moment, of her dark curls spilling onto his chest and the sunlight illuminating her skin. "I'm so tired, Sadie," he admitted and her smile grew a fraction._

 _"I know," she murmured and moved closer to him. Bucky swore he could feel the length of her naked body against his, even though a small fraction of his mind knew he was existing in a dream. "Hold on just a little bit longer."_

 _"A little longer," he repeated groggily. Bucky was beginning to slip back into the void but he was desperate to fight it. "No, I don't want to leave you."_

 _Sadie shook her thick curls over one shoulder and he struggled to stay with her as she leaned over him, moving to kiss him. "Just a little bit longer, Bucky."_

 _"I don't want to go," he mumbled, nearly incoherent as her voice morphed into another. A hard accent replaced Sadie's soft southern lilt, cutting the consonants hard and curbing the vowels. Bucky shuddered. Her warmth left him and the cold, damp air rushed back into his lungs sending shivers down the length of his spine._

 _"Wake up, Bucky. Come now, wake up."_

Bucky's consciousness returned to his laboratory prison. Ghastly green light washed over everything in his line of sight. The sickly glow reflected exactly how he felt inside, compounded by the crushing depression that accompanied coming out of his latest hallucination. He'd never been an easily defeated man but for the first time in his life Bucky was ready to lay down and accept his fate.

"Hallucinations have been common among other members, yes," said Zola absently as he made notes. "Though yours have been particularly persistent. You've been in this state since your last round of injections."

Bucky grunted softly and turned his head away from Zola. He would literally give anything to to just close his eyes and be with Sadie again. It would be so easy, he reasoned. All he had to do was shut his eyes, drift off and never wake up. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to be in her arms, exchanging sweet nothings and making love until he couldn't remember his name anymore. Bucky could handle an eternity spent in her company, even if he knew it wasn't the real thing. But she'd told him to hold on just a little bit longer. Bucky wasn't so sure if he could do it.

"You've been unusually vocal as well, mostly about your friends and family and a lover perhaps?"

In a kneejerk reaction, Bucky jolted against his restraints at the very idea of Zola threatening anyone he loved. A soft chuckle escaped Zola's lips. "Do not trouble yourself Sergeant Barnes. I have no interest in your loved ones. Only in you. Have you not yet figured out how special you truly are?"

A spark of defiance lit Bucky's nerves. Rolling his eyes, Bucky let a familiar smirk tug on his lips. "I hate to break it do you, Doc. But you're not really my type."

If Zola found his impertinence angering he didn't let it show. A mild smile stretched across his sallow face, beady eyes dancing behind his round glasses. "To even be showing a streak of defiance so late is impressive. Your unwillingness to break is what makes you so special because it makes you quite strong. But all men have a breaking point and so do you, Sergeant Barnes. I will find it and after I do I will turn you into the most formidable soldier mankind has ever seen, completely and utterly at the service of HYDRA."

"You've got a snowball's chance in hell," Bucky muttered.

"Do I? Perhaps your mother and father would beg to differ? Or your sister, her name is Rebecca I believe? What of Steve? Your brother, I suppose. Maybe Sadie, the woman whose name you mutter over and over again in your sleep. I suppose I must amend my previous statement. It appears I do have an interest in your loved ones."

Bucky made up his mind in that moment that if he ever got free he would kill Doctor Zola himself. Nothing would stop him or stand in his way. He started to speak when a voice came through a two-way radio that interrupted him.

"Doctor Zola! Report to the control room!"

And then Zola was gone, scurrying out of the room as fast as his portly legs could carry him. Bucky fell back into a dream-like state. Minutes passed and he remained oblivious to the chaos taking place throughout the factory. He passed in and out of dreams and memories, muttering numbers and names. A voice filled his head so close and familiar that Bucky swore it was real.

"Bucky? Oh my God."

Heavy hands landed on his shoulders.

"It's me. It's Steve!"

 **A/N: There ended up being a lot more to unpack in this chapter than I initially anticipated! I had sososo much fun writing Bucky's hallucination sequences, I've been waiting to write them for months.**

 **Next chapter picks up on the rescue and many other things…**

 **I'd love to hear your feedback! Relieved that I didn't start picking off more characters? Excited for future reunions? Unhappy that I'm all too willing to put poor Bucky through torture? Let me know what you think! - Much love, Kappa.**


	17. The Long March and Return

**A/N: So, funny story…I ended up scrapping almost the entire draft of this chapter. I split the outline of the original draft into two chapters and re-wrote the whole thing. Sometimes even my best laid plans go awry and I wanted to do these next chapters justice as they are a major turning point in the story. The end result was worth it, I think, and I hope you agree.**

 **Oh. My. God. I really can't think of a better chapter to break 200 reviews and I couldn't possibly have better readers. If I could bake and send all of you cookies I would, but in lieu of that my deepest gratitude will have to do. You all make writing fun and keep me coming back to Sadie and Bucky time and again. Huge extra thank yous to Mopargirl1 who is never afraid to tell me to hit the reset button when I'm going off track and to the wonderful Stencil Your Heart for betaing!**

 **Mild warnings for language and a smidge of violence. Enough of my ramblings, I'll let you get to your Peaches and Herb moments!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Captain America**_ **or** _ **Marvel**_ **. If I did there would be more happy Bucky flashbacks…just sayin'.**

 **Chapter 17 – The Long March and Return**

The first signs of dawn were starting to temper the dark night sky when Bucky stumbled past the main gate of the factory, Steve one pace ahead of him. Slung over his shoulder, the rifle he'd stolen weighed him down more than it should have and Bucky attributed that to exhaustion. Fresh air streamed into his lungs for the first time in three weeks, combatting the scratchiness in his throat from the smoke he'd inhaled while running for his life out of the now burning factory. The cold early morning air was a welcome change from the stagnant air in Zola's lab and the even more stagnant air in the cell block.

Grinding to a halt, Bucky doubled over. With his hands braced on his knees, he sucked in several deep breaths in rapid succession. Steve stopped when he realized Bucky wasn't with him and returned, gripping his shoulder.

"Bucky? Are you okay?"

Waving a weak hand, Bucky tried to dismiss Steve but found he couldn't put much of a coherent thought together. "I'm just gonna collapse face down in the dirt, I'll let you know in a couple of hours."

Judging from Steve's silence, he didn't think Bucky's joke was particularly funny. Instead he started to put a supportive arm beneath Bucky's, determined to get them both to safety even if it meant carrying his friend the whole way there. "We need to keep moving. There's a clearing not too far away where everyone else should be waiting."

"Everyone else?" Bucky asked as he straightened. Now that he'd caught his breath he found he could still walk and the urge to lie down on the road and sleep for days left him. A new spark of hope kicked into flame in his chest. Had Steve really managed to single-handedly get the rest of the prisoners out? Did that mean Dugan and Gabe Jones were alive? What about the rest of Bucky's cell-mates - Falsworth, Dernier, and Morita?

"Well, I borrowed the keys from a guard. It seemed like the right thing to do to let everyone out. Hopefully they didn't have too bad a fight getting to safety."

Bucky's mouth hung open a fraction and he shook his head. In the growing dawn, he could see Steve appeared completely unfazed by his unbelievable bravery and inhuman abilities. "Seriously, Steve. What is the army feeding you?"

Steve threw his head back and laughed. "The same garbage you've been eating," he said. "We should get moving. I don't want to stick around to run into any survivors."

Tightening his grip on his rifle, Bucky slid his finger to rest against the trigger and turned his sharp eyes to the trees. Evergreen trees rose between larger trunks and dry needles and fallen leaves crunched lightly beneath his boots. Light steadily poured through the trees and for that Bucky was grateful; it was much easier to spot the enemy moving amongst the woods in broad daylight. The two men fell into step together, walking cautiously forward.

Every so often, Bucky's eyes shifted back to the new and improved Steve Rogers. Just seeing him holding a naked pistol in one hand was jarring and never mind the fact that Steve was just as tall as Bucky and even broader through the shoulder. The bits and pieces he'd picked up from what Steve said during their escape didn't add up to much and certainly didn't answer the many, many questions Bucky had for Steve. He tried to get his thoughts together as they continued onward until at long last he couldn't stand the silence.

"So, are you going to tell me how you ended up like this? Or am I gonna have to make up my own stories?

Steve chuckled but didn't take his eyes from his section of the tree line. They forged ahead on a dusty road that cut through the thick forest. Bucky had absolutely no idea how far away they were from base camp, but he got the feeling it was going to take a while to get there. "It all started after you left me at the World's Fair Expo," he said and then launched into the full explanation.

For a quarter of an hour, Steve spun his tale, leaving out no detail. Bucky listened intently and tried to make heads or tails of the story. The facts seemed unbelievable. Bucky knew better than anyone that for his entire life Steve Rogers was the little guy. Now there was nothing little about him and it all boiled down to a super-soldier serum devised by a German scientist and powered up by the entire electrical grid of Brooklyn. All of this had come after Steve went through an abbreviated version of basic training including, much to Bucky's horror, throwing himself on a grenade.

"What did I tell you when I left?" Bucky moaned when Steve rounded out his tale. "Didn't I tell you that they'd catch you lying on your enlistment form? Didn't I tell you that they'd take you? I know I told you not to do anything stupid. Steve, do you know what throwing yourself on top of a grenade is?"

Steve shrugged, adjusting his helmet. "I was told it was brave."

"It was stupid," argued Bucky vehemently. "It is the textbook definition of stupid."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? Good thing too, I can't believe I had to go thirty miles behind enemy lines just to check up on you."

It was Bucky's turn to avert his gaze and he swept through the tree line again, looking for any subtle sign of movement. The rifle in his hands wasn't his; he'd grabbed it from the ground when he and Steve made a mad dash across the open yard to the main gate. Although the make was somewhat similar to what he was used to, the weapon still felt foreign in his hands and he wasn't entirely certain of his accuracy with it.

"That's real funny, Steve. I'd forgotten what a damn riot you are."

Steve did chuckle. "Seriously though, Buck. You don't write, you don't call. I'm beginning to understand how all your old ex-girlfriends feel."

"I thought you were moping back home. I didn't want to write talking about my wartime experience and rub it in your face."

Steve laid an understanding hand on Bucky's shoulder. The sincerity of his actions was still the same old Steve and that was a massive comfort to Bucky. "I know, I'm just giving you a

hard time."

Bucky smirked. "Of course if I'd known you were prancing across the country dressed like that I definitely would have written to talk you out of it."

Steve opened his mouth to reply but Bucky pulled up short. Reflex kicked in and he held up a fist, dropping to one knee. Following suit, Steve took a similar position. Bucky raised his rifle, squinting as he looked into the steadily lightening tree line. He and Steve dove further down when a bullet zinged through the air, shattering the bark off a tree behind them. " _Shit_ ," Bucky cursed and he threw himself across the lane, crouching behind a tree for cover. Steve followed his example. Panic rose up in Bucky's throat. Frantically, he looked around but found no better cover than what he already had.

Swallowing hard, he turned his face out for a fraction of a second to try and see his assailant. Another bullet sailed through the air in the space where his head had been right after he moved back into cover. His tired eyes weren't focusing in the hazy morning, unaccustomed to natural light after weeks of darkness.

"I can't see a goddamn thing," he muttered to Steve. "Where's the shooter?"

Steve tightened his grip on the ridiculous spangled shield he carried and raised it to protect his body when he turned out of cover. He was out for half a heartbeat longer than he should have been and jumped back into cover when a bullet glanced the corner of his shield and ricocheted away into a tree. Bucky swore colorfully, dropping his head back against the tree.

"One shooter, maybe thirty yards directly ahead," said Steve.

Bucky nodded and tried to find a comfortable grip on his rifle. A bullet rest in the chamber already and Bucky prayed he could get the job done in one shot. "Think you can draw him out?"

None of Bucky's soldiers particularly relished the notion of purposely drawing enemy fire in order to allow for a clear shot. But Steve Rogers certainly wasn't one of Bucky's baby-faced soldiers and he didn't mind in the slightest being asked to do something too dangerous. In fact, as he moved away from cover and darted towards another tree for cover, Bucky couldn't help but wonder if Steve was actually _enjoying_ this whole exercise. He was finally seeing real action for the first time and it was clearly living up to all of his expectations. Bucky didn't dwell on the notion and instead planted the rifle into the perfect spot at his shoulder, lined up his target and depressed the trigger.

A surprisingly powerful kickback shot the butt of the rifled harder into his shoulder but thankfully his aim remained true. The shooter tumbled backwards beneath the puff of mist that flew into the air, announcing Bucky hit his target. For a moment, neither man spoke or even moved. Slowly, Bucky finally lowered his rifle, releasing another bullet into the chamber as he did while his trigger finger rest along the side of the weapon.

"You're one hell of a shot," said Steve hollowly, unable to tear his eyes away from the guard's still form.

"Yeah, it must be all those years of shooting spitballs at Billy Novak," said Bucky. He hated taking lives. Unlike some of his other fellow infantrymen, Bucky never relished making the kill shot but he did what had to be done. The realization, however, that he'd just killed another human being in front of his best friend, one of the most righteous men he knew, was something different altogether. "I don't do it if I can help it."

Steve held up a hand, stopping Bucky mid-explanation. "You did what you had to do."

Bucky couldn't bear to look at the guard any longer. "Let's keep going," he murmured. "I'm ready for a square meal and a shower."

Silently, he turned his back on the body and retreated to the road. The crunch of boots on the gravel told him that Steve had fallen into step next to him. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, giving it a brotherly squeeze. Neither man said another word for a long time but the silence never became uncomfortable. Bucky had always appreciated Steve's ability to carry silence as easily as a conversation because both men understood that some things required no words at all. The quiet was restorative and as the minutes wore on Bucky let a new emotion replace the despair he'd endured for days upon weeks. At long last the right words reached the tip of his tongue.

"It's good to see you, Steve," he said and shot a sideways glance at his taller friend. "Even though you're a circus side-show now."

Steve threw his head back and laughed along with Bucky. "It's good to see you too, Bucky. Even though you're still the same old jerk."

X X X

Eventually, Bucky and Steve came upon an enormous clearing that was barely big enough to hold all four hundred surviving prisoners. The motley assortment of men came from a dozen different countries, armies, and more units than Bucky could hope to count. As he milled through the crowd he heard half a dozen languages he couldn't understand, but the sentiment was universal. A jittery but joyous sort of energy buzzed through the clearing and in the heart of each man, finally free from their personal hell.

By the time the entire column got underway, the sun was arcing over the trees. The going was slow; there wasn't enough room on the handful of stolen vehicles to accommodate every wounded man. Men took turns clambering onto the stolen tanks to rest their weary legs and aching feet. Bucky managed to catch a ride atop one of the tanks along with Dum Dum Dugan and Gabe Jones. He'd even snuck in a few miraculous hours of uninterrupted sleep, which left him rejuvenated despite the dark images and memories that stayed on the edges of his more pleasant dreams.

The column marched through the day and night, maintaining a steady if slow pace. Bucky caught up with his friends, introduced Steve and enjoyed the general revelry that took place among the men. Steve talked to as many prisoners as he could but never strayed too far away from the head of the column where Bucky, Dugan, Gabe Jones, and the rest of his cellmates remained. Every so often Bucky caught Steve glancing worriedly at him from the corner of his eye. Bucky could feel the bruising on his face every time he smiled - or made any expression, really - and he could only imagine how bad he looked.

When the second morning dawned water and grey, Bucky found himself perched atop a tank, Dugan on his left and Steve on his right. He'd only woken from a cat nap moments earlier, banishing the pleasant dream he'd been having. In it he'd been walking into base camp alone stopping to watch Sadie Reid as she ran from the other end of the main road, throwing herself into his arms and wrapping her long legs around his waist.

During the long march Bucky's mind had wandered down many avenues, but time and again his thoughts kept circling back to Sadie. Was the 80th still at base camp? Had the hospital been moved out to support a different infantry unit? It hadn't occurred to Bucky that the army might have utilized the talented field hospital staff some place else where the action was still heavy. The thought of not seeing Sadie again upset him. Rationally he knew his dreams and hallucinations had been nothing more than figments of his drug-induced state, but that didn't eliminate the sheer terror that bloomed in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Sadie bleeding to death on an exam table locked away from his reach. Even if Sadie was still angry with him, even if she didn't want to talk to him, Bucky still had to see her. He needed to be sure that she was alive.

"Don't hurt yourself by thinking too hard, Bucky," said Dugan with a smirk. The redhead reseated his bowler hat. A cigarette dangled precariously from his lips and he tilted his chin up to release a narrow stream of smoke.

"You know a few days away from you made me forget what a pain in the ass you are, Dum Dum," said Bucky, earning his friend's laughter. Steve grinned from Bucky's other side, still trying to work out the dynamic between Bucky and this entirely different set of friends.

Bucky turned his face up towards the morning sky. Muted light slipped between the evergreen trees that grew tall and thin, crowding along the edge of the road. Still, warmth flooded his cheeks and traveled deep beneath his skin. A definite snap in the air told him that autumn was in full swing along the border between Italy and Austria, providing another reminder that he'd been kept indoors for nearly a month's time. Still, despite the chill he lapped up the free air, inhaling deep and relishing how it refreshed his lungs after weeks of stale air. For a while, Bucky had been certain he wouldn't live long enough to step outside again and that made his freedom all the more precious.

"We can't be too much further out," muttered Steve.

"How far behind the line were we?" Gabe Jones asked from where he sat above them atop the turret.

"About thirty miles from base camp," said Steve, readjusting his seat. Bucky watched him with mild curiosity. For all of his physical improvement, Steve constantly fidgeted when he never had before as though he were vaguely uncomfortable in his own skin. Steve even occasionally moved with hesitation, painfully aware that he took up more room than he ever had before. It then occurred to Bucky that Steve reminded him of himself the summer he shot up six inches and filled out. As a young man, Bucky endured a painfully awkward handful of months where he couldn't move without knocking into something and was unaware of his newfound height and strength. Overnight Steve had gone through the same kind of transition and was thoroughly ill equipped to deal with it.

"I bet we'll make quite the splash when we come rolling into base camp," said Gabe amicably, capturing Bucky's attention once more.

"The hospital staff will have their work cut out for them," said Dugan casually. "But I bet the nurses have been bored to tears without the usual chaos to keep them busy."

As he spoke, Dugan gave Bucky a brotherly nudge. Bucky had to remind himself he couldn't go shoving Dugan over the edge of the tank onto the dirt road.

"The nurses seemed plenty busy when I was at the hospital," Steve said.

"You were in the hospital?" Bucky's question came out sharper and more concerned than he'd intended. He was far too used to hearing the words 'Steve' and 'hospital' under much less happy circumstances.

Steve waved him off. "I toured the hospital; I try to tour the medical stations for every unit I visit and meet the wounded. Anyway, the nurses had their hands full. I saw one of the nurses help restrain a grown man to the ground and give him a shot at the same time."

Dugan and Bucky both shared a grin. "Sounds about right," said Dugan fondly. "The nurses with the 80th are tougher than nails. Hell, after what they went through they're probably tougher than some of the guys I know."

In Bucky's mind that was an understatement. He'd seen men in other rifle squads and other companies crack under the pressure and succumb to the fear, paralyzed and unable to even move. At night in the factory he heard more than one man crying himself to sleep, calling out for his parents and even God when things got really bad. Not all soldiers could bottle up their fear and fight through it. But he'd never seen or heard about Sadie or her friends breaking under the pressure, even when bombs were falling all around them.

"The field hospital is still with the base camp?" Bucky asked tentatively. He'd considered telling Steve about Sadie during their trek from the factory but decided against it. Until he knew how she felt about him and where they stood, Bucky didn't see much point in talking about what could be nothing.

"Yeah, good thing too. A lot of these men will need attention when we get back."

Steve was right. Even Bucky knew he was due for an exam, though there wasn't much the doctors could do for the bruises on his face and the inside of his elbows. Much to his horror, he'd noticed that the bruises and aches from his beating were healing faster than they should. In the sparse gaps in his train of thought, Doctor Zola's words haunted Bucky. Was it true? Was he now really stronger, faster, and prone to quicker recovery? The thought made him sick to his stomach and he forced it down.

A fresh distraction crested over a small hill. The trees began to thin out and the road widened. Ahead of them, Bucky could see a gate and his heart leapt into his chest. Dugan started laughing, clapping him on the back.

"Did you ever think you'd be happy to see this place again?" He asked, swinging his rifle around his body and moving to jump off the side of the tank.

"Not in a million years," admitted Bucky.

"C'mon, Buck! Cap! Don't you want to walk in at the head of the line?"

Steve and Bucky shared a look. Shrugging his shoulders, Bucky decided to leave it up to Steve. "Couldn't hurt."

In Bucky's not-so-humble opinion Steve deserved every ounce of praise that was about to be heaped upon him. "Yeah, why not," he said with a groan and slid off the edge of the tank after Steve. Gabe hopped down after him and the group of men joined the head of the column where James Falsworth, Jim Morita, and Jacques Dernier were marching. All of the men pulled back just slightly, allowing Steve to take the lead.

As the column marched into base camp, causing an uproar as they passed, Steve stood a little straighter. For the first time in his life, Bucky could practically feel the pride radiating off his friend. The feeling was infectious and he too straightened up, lifting his chin and falling into step with Steve. Together they strode forward, shoulder to shoulder and against the world, just as the had always been.

X X X

Sleep evaded Sadie during the two nights that followed Captain Rogers' dramatic departure. The rumor that Howard Stark and Agent Carter flew Steve over the border into Austria, across enemy lines only to drop him deep into the woods spread through the base camp faster than a stomach flu. Everywhere Sadie turned soldiers and hospital staff were speculating on why he'd done it. Some men thought Captain Rogers was trying to prove something while others thought he was downright crazy and suicidal. One thing was for absolute certain: the hope that he and any of the imprisoned men of the 107th and 92nd would return continued to diminish as the hours ticked by.

Sadie typically prided herself on her patience, but she found the waiting unbearable. The passing seconds that turned into minutes set her teeth on edge. Enduring three weeks of not knowing whether Bucky was alive or dead had been torture enough, especially when all she had of him was a scrap of paper bearing a hastily written apology. Then to come to the extremely belated realization that she was in love with him only to be given hope that he would come back to her alive was too much! Sadie's fragile heart struggled beneath the weight of her strong emotions, twisting and straining every time Bucky entered her thoughts, which was more than she cared to admit.

When dawn ushered in the second morning after Captain Rogers' disappearance, Sadie, like the rest of the base camp, had all but given up hope. After a mostly sleepless night it took most of her willpower to even get up and get dressed, much less drag herself to the hospital for another shift. But Sadie forcefully reminded herself that she'd been through things just as bad and she'd survived back then - she could do it again now. So, she put herself together as best as she could and tried to box up her worries, fears, and burgeoning grief for another time. It wasn't easy. For the first time in Sadie's life she was in love and staring down the possibility that she'd never even see Bucky again. That prospect alone held the power to pulverize her heart.

The hospital was a welcome, though incomplete, distraction. Sadie started her usual morning rounds, checking to see how her patients fared the night and beginning to make her list of required preparations to evacuate certain patients. A handful of convoys would be leaving with the USO the next day, bound for the coast and then south to the nearest evacuation hospital. Some of her patients had earned their tickets back to the United States and had waited far too long for the trip home.

One of Sadie's patients scheduled for evacuations was a freckle-faced redhead by the name of Davey Callahan. He'd been on the wrong end of a potato masher that nearly severed his left leg and took a chunk of his bicep and three fingers from his left hand with it. Effusively charming but in desperate need of a better-equipped hospital, Davey handled his confinement particularly well.

"Good morning, Nurse," he said with a sunny smile, using his right hand to push himself into a sitting position as Sadie settled onto her work stool next to the left side of his bed.

"Morning, Private Callahan," she replied, voice tight.

"Still nothin'?" He asked. Sadie already knew what Davey was talking about; it was the same thing everyone was talking about.

Gingerly, Sadie took his left wrist and began to undo the bandage wrapped around his hand. "Not a word," she replied. Her stomach twisted into a painful knot. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Well as can be I guess. A real bed ought to be a nice change."

Sadie nodded and peeled the final layer of his bandage away before carefully removing the gauze covering his still healing wounds. "You're coming along nicely," she remarked, examining the stumps where his pinky and ring fingers had been. Doctor Holmes had managed to salvage enough skin to sew over the wounds and she could see the vivid white scars were already beginning to form at the incision sites. It was a shame Davey would never maintain full use of his hand, but there were worse things in this world, she reasoned. "By the time you get home you'll be all healed up."

"Thanks be to God," he remarked. "My Ma ain't gonna be too happy, though."

Despite her dour mood, Sadie managed the ghost of a smile. "I think your mother will be happy that you're home safe and alive, Private."

Davey shrugged. "You never met my Ma before. She'd scare a ghost to death if she ever met one."

Sadie chuckled and set to work replacing the gauze and bandage. Just as she started to undo the bandage covering his bicep, Evelyn appeared half-out of breath with Marjorie hot on her heels.

"What on earth has gotten into you two?" Sadie asked.

Evelyn didn't answer. Instead she lurched forward and grabbed Sadie's arm, pulling her up from her stool. Marjorie piped up as Sadie tried to fight Evelyn off. "Come on! Oh you just have to come and see!"

"Evelyn, what are you doing? I'm in the middle of treating Private Callahan."

"He can wait," said Evelyn firmly. Exhilaration practically lit up her face. "I promise you, he can wait. Hell, he'll probably want to see this too!"

"For God's sake, see what?" Sadie snapped as Marjorie took her other hand and the two women began dragging her towards the first ward tent's main entrance. Unable to dig her heels in on the wood floor, she had no choice but to let the two women pull her out of the tent onto the raised platform. Sadie's jaw dropped.

People were gathering on either side of the main road leading through base camp. Men poured out of their nearby tents, crowding and jostling each other to get a good view. The crowd amassing grew louder as it grew larger, to the point that Sadie wondered if anyone in camp wasn't along the roadside. Rising to the tips of her toes, Sadie tried to get a better view to see what all the commotion was about.

"Look!" Evelyn cried.

Sadie swore she heart a faint pop as her heart exploded in her chest.

A massive column of men came streaming in through the north entrance of the camp. They marched proudly down the main road, past scores of people cheering and whistling in celebration. Tanks and trucks rumbled along, laden with men who waved to the crowd. Some of them jumped down to greet their friends, breaking off into the crowd, but Sadie didn't pay them any mind. Every bit of her focus rested on the head of the column.

"I don't believe it," whispered Evelyn.

Neither could Sadie as her grey eyes slid past Captain Rogers to rest on the man marching next to him, head held high. Bucky's dark hair was a wreck and his green sweater was torn in several places, hanging open over his upper chest. But he was all in one piece and most importantly he was alive. The impulse to break through the crowd and throw herself into his arms nearly overcame Sadie and she shot out her hand to grasp Evelyn's.

As if Evelyn sensed what Sadie was feeling, she held on tight and tugged her to stand closer. "You don't want to make a scene," she reminded her friend in a soft voice. "There'll be plenty of time for that later."

Sadie broke her gaze from Bucky to nod gratefully to Evelyn before her eyes magnetically returned to the man. If Sadie had any doubts as to whether she loved Bucky, they drifted away on the raucous cheers of the crowd encircling him. For as she watched him, his eyes swept the crowd in front of the hospital tent until he found her. It all made perfect sense to her now, the months of her tangled feelings and trying to deny something that felt so utterly right. Loving Bucky was just right and she found it came naturally to her. She could spend a lifetime drowning in his blue eyes and never once come up for air. More than anything she wanted to lose herself in his embrace and never let go.

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and she couldn't help the broad, beaming smile that lit up her entire face as she dropped her head onto Evelyn's shoulder. Bucky held onto her, his expression mirroring hers. Even from a distance she knew that he felt the same way she did; his poker face couldn't hide everything. She wiped her tears away with shaking fingers and laughed when Doug Lovitz broke between both nurses, kissing their cheeks.

It was over. The seemingly endless hours and excruciating minutes of waiting drew to a close. Bucky's gaze was forcefully torn from her as several men from F Company converged on him at once and he was swallowed by the crowd along with Captain Rogers, who seemed keen on keeping Bucky in his sight. Sadie realized with a jolt that Captain Rogers was quite possibly Bucky's childhood friend he'd left behind. Doug Lovitz was chattering loudly in their ears about getting into the thick of the crowd and he'd just disappeared into it when Doctor Holmes appeared, wiping the sweat form his pale forehead.

"These men all need treatment. Sadie, we're going to need all hands on deck."

"Of course, Doc," she replied, knowing it was her duty as the head nurse of the first ward. It was too much to hope that she'd be able to treat Bucky, but Sadie's head was clear now. Just knowing that he was alive satisfied the worst of her fears and anxieties for the moment and she turned to rally the nurses nearest her. Sadie's duties came first, no matter how vehemently her heart disagreed. There would be plenty of time to sort out their tangled feelings later and for the moment that was enough.

X X X

The flow of patients continued until late afternoon - four hundred returning men overwhelming the hospital staff, each one requiring a cursory exam at the very least. Sadie lost count of the number of soldiers she treated. To prevent the nurses and doctors from becoming confused and lost in the constant chaos, the hospital's commanding officers put everyone on duty and set up the largest triage system Sadie had ever seen. Filtering patients through a basic screening process, the newest nurses were able to send surgical and critical patients to waiting doctors, meanwhile senior nurses saw the rest. Peggy rallied a handful of her SSR co-workers and they appeared sometime in the middle of the melee to help with everything from changing bed sheets to holding hands to helping change bandages. At one point Sadie saw Peggy helping Evelyn treat a particularly ugly burn, the two women working side-by-side.

More than one able-bodied soldier came to assist throughout the day. Sadie got a thrill when Sergeant Dugan appeared with a mile-wide grin as he helped an injured man hobble to her nurse's station. He greeted her with a bear hug and a brotherly kiss on the cheek before introducing her to Gabe Jones, a young man from the 92nd armored division. Dugan and Gabe stuck around, helping carry stretchers and catching up with friends they thought were long dead. Before Doctor Holmes gave her new orders, she saw Dugan and Gabe sitting at Doug Lovitz's bedside, the three men laughing up a storm as they passed around a rather non-discreet flask. Sadie couldn't even be angry; as far as she was concerned all three men more than earned their revels.

Sadie began to notice that her patients came wearing many different uniforms from armies of allied countries all over. A handful of her patients didn't speak English and she was forced to resort to clumsy pointing and gestures to explain what she was doing and what she needed. The 80th Field Hospital was so bogged down with its own patients that the addition of hundreds of men forced them past capacity. All three ward tents were filled to the brim and the pouring rain prevented them from keeping men outside beneath the shade of trees and open tents. As a result, several smaller tents attached to the hospital had to be gutted to take on the less critical patients while the USO graciously gave up its tents for the cause. When Sadie jogged past the women's camp she saw the chorus girls sharing dubious expressions as they peered into the tents they'd be sharing with the intimidating, no-nonsense field nurses.

Once the patient flow diminished to a trickle, Doctor Holmes ordered Sadie to ensure a smooth setup process and safe transfer of patients to the small tents. She and Marjorie spent the better part of two hours running back and forth with a team of technicians and a couple of men from E Company setting up cots, beds, lamps, setting aside necessary supplies and then beginning the transfer of soldiers.

By the time Sadie began to set up her last tent, a new kind of tired settled into her bones along with a new type of anxiety. Through all of the commotion, she hadn't had much time to think about Bucky but that didn't stop her from doing it anyway. The small glimpse she'd gotten of him in the crowd was abruptly ended when Doctor Keller obstructed her view and led Bucky away to the second ward tent for treatment. It had been too much to hope that Sadie would have the opportunity to treat him and she hadn't seen him since.

Worry gnawed at the nerves in the pit of her stomach while it continued to turn itself in knots. A wide range of scenarios played on repeat in her brain, each one returning to something she'd easily forgotten upon seeing him. Sadie and Bucky hadn't parted on good terms with one another. Although the very notion needled and burned her heart, Sadie wasn't sure she would blame Bucky if he didn't want to see her. Her last words to him had not been kind, a cherry on top of what Sadie could aptly say was not her finest moment.

"But he sent you the note," she reminded herself under her breath as she folded a blanket halfway down a cot.

Bucky's note continued to hold a special spot in her breast pocket. The note, like her father's wedding ring and Saint Agatha's medal, went everywhere she did. Sadie had read and reread it so many times the edges were soft and frayed and the crease would eventually threaten to give out.

Even then a three-week old note didn't mean everything between them would be alright. All she knew was that she had to see Bucky and she would seek him out at the end of her shift, whether he wanted to talk to her or not. Sadie's chest began to ache again,; the very idea of him rejecting her hurt more than she ever thought it would. Was this love? More than once over the past few weeks she'd asked herself that question. And Sadie had come to the absolute - if somewhat uncomfortable - truth that sometimes being in love meant contending with uncertainty. After all, she couldn't imagine a situation more uncertain than spending three weeks worrying if the man she loved was dead or not.

Blowing out a sigh, she finished tucking a sheet over the mattress one of the few extra beds she'd been able to find in camp. She stood in a moderately sized square tent often used by the ophthalmologist to test visual impairment in soldiers with head injuries. The work table was pushed off to one side to allow room for two cots and a bed along with supplies, lamps, and a few small luxuries that men were giving up left and right: cigarettes, chocolate bars, and even comics and magazines from home.

Behind her the tent flaps rustled and she straightened. Wiping a hand over her forehead, Sadie took a breath before she wheeled around to face either Marjorie or a technician prepared with a new battery of questions that she couldn't answer. Pivoting on one of her booted feet, she opened her mouth to speak but halted at the sight of her visitor.

"Hi," said Bucky as he shifted his weight on his feet.

Sadie shut her mouth, eyes widening as she drank in all six feet of his frame. The same thick chestnut hair fell attractively across his forehead, resting above his piercing blue eyes. Bucky was freshly showered and clean shaven. The clean uniform he wore wasn't his, but at least it was free of the tears and holes he'd been sporting earlier. The top few buttons were undone, revealing a glimpse of his pale skin and the ball chain holding his dog tags. Sadie found herself staring at the same Bucky but he was almost a stranger to her at the same time.

Perhaps though it wasn't because Bucky himself had changed as much as her feelings had. Sadie's heart kicked into a full gallop against her breastbone and she raised a hand to her mouth to cover her mild surprise. Every cell in her body urged her forward, to bury herself in the safety of his arms and the irrational side of her brain could hardly believe that Bucky was standing inside this small tent, alive and in seemingly good condition.

"Okay, see in a normal situation when someone says 'hi' the other person is supposed to say 'hi' back," said Bucky, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back slightly on his heels.

The problem was that Sadie's tongue was nailed to the roof of her mouth. More than once she tried to speak but words failed her, and at long last her body tired of her brain faltering. She crossed the distance between them in a couple of easy strides and was about to throw her arms around his neck when Bucky turned his face down to her and the light caught him properly. Both her hands landed on his upper arms gripping tight as she ground to a stop.

"Oh my God, what did they do to you?"

As she spoke she dislodged a hand to hold his jaw, turning his head to the side so she could get a better look at the deeply discolored bruises on his face and cuts to match. "Oh, that," he said haltingly. "It's nothing."

For better or for worse, Sadie couldn't deny her nature and she unknowingly slipped into nurse-mode. "It's not nothing and you know it," she said sternly. "Now sit."

Bucky's hesitation broke and the tiniest smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he obeyed her order. His body was stilted as he slowly pushed himself up to sit on the work table. He sat just a fraction above Sadie's eye level but that didn't stop her from moving the lamps to give her more light. As gently as possible, she turned his face to one side to inspect the angry bruises ringing his eye, along with the butterfly bandage that covered a cut on his forehead. Gingerly, Sadie touched the puffy edges of his discolored skin. Bucky winced and pulled back slightly, causing Sadie to withdraw.

"Sadie, you do know the doctor already checked me out and cleared me, right?"

There was no sarcasm embedded in Bucky's words, just a streak of good humor. It was clear now to Sadie that Bucky would let her poke and prod all she wanted as long as they were together.

"I like to see things for myself, that's all," she said softly. Bucky continued to humor her as she examined the other side of his face, clearly not minding in the slightest at her featherlike and most assuredly not clinical touch. Without realizing it, Sadie had completely betrayed her own feelings through her fingers, unknowingly caressing the angle of his jaw and sweeping delicately along his skin.

A few moments of silence passed and Bucky's chest hitched when she placed her palm flat against it, feeling out the strong and steady beat of his heart. Sadie had no idea what he'd been through and a not insignificant part of her didn't want to know, but for the moment none of that mattered. Bucky was there and he was real, that was all that mattered to Sadie for the time being. Sadie's heart and tear ducts got the better of her and she ducked her head, staring at Bucky's knees to avoid him seeing her eyes redden and water up.

"So, what do you think? Am I gonna make it?"

Bucky meant it as a joke but he missed the mark by a mile. Sadie drew in a shuddering breath, shaking her head. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "That's not funny," she said in a low voice. "I've spent the last three weeks not knowing if you were alive or dead. I've been so scared that I was never going to see you again all while knowing that the last thing I did was tell you to go away. How could I have been so awful? What if that was the last thing you ever heard me say?"

Somewhere in the midst of her rant, Bucky tipped her chin up with his fingers. Tears fell down her cheeks and he took her face in his hands, brushing the tears away with his thumbs. "Hey, slow down. Take a deep breath." He slid to the very edge of the table and gathered her hands in his. "I am right here, Sadie. I'm here and it's going to take a hell of a lot more than what I went through to keep me from you."

"I missed you, Bucky," she admitted, searching his eyes with her own. "I know you're on the front line constantly but this was different. This was, I just, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Bucky took her hands and rested them against his chest once more. Sadie felt out his dog tag chain and drew it out from his shirt, rubbing her thumb over the raised letters. Unbidden to her, she stepped further between his legs, close enough for Bucky to bring an arm around her waist, his other hand coming to rest at the curve of her neck. His thumb absently wore a comforting path along her collar bone, dipping just beneath the collar of her shirt. Another trinket hung from his dog tags - a shining medal. Sadie held the Saint Christopher's medal in her palm.

"I thought about you every day," Bucky said softly. "Some days the only thing that kept me going was the sound of your voice and knowing I had to get back to you. In my dreams you told me to hold on and I did, so I could see you again."

At long last Sadie's body, brain, and heart got on the same page and she felt everything fall into place. Wrapping her hand around the medal, Sadie tugged Bucky forward and kissed him for the first time. The kiss was brief but Sadie swore she felt the earth shift beneath her feet all the same. His mouth was soft and yielding in initial surprise but he recovered quickly, kissing her back just before it ended. Both of them pulled back quickly out of sheer astonishment. Bucky's blue eyes shone with a wonderful mixture of happiness, humor, and love as he smiled.

"You called me Bucky," he muttered, eyes flickering from hers down to her lips and back again.

Sadie raised a single eyebrow as she tried her hardest not to smile. Leaning in she stole another kiss, one that he was prepared to return. "Yeah, I guess I did."

Bucky's hand slid up her neck to cup her cheek, allowing him to guide her back to him. "It sounds nice. I like it almost as much as I love hearing you boss me around."

"I do not boss you around." Sadie barely had time to breathe the words before Bucky brought her back to him.

Their lips met in a rush of breath and the rustle of fabric as Bucky slid off the table to hold her flush against him. Sadie rose to the tips of her toes, curling her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. A kaleidoscope of color exploded behind Sadie's closed eyes when he nipped her lower lip with his teeth between long, lingering kisses that elevated her heart into her throat and released an entire army of butterflies into her stomach. Her fingers dove into his thick hair, her fingernails dragging lightly along his scalp. Bucky let out the smallest groan against her lips and Sadie's knees buckled. If not for his arm around her waist she would have spilled to the floor and she wouldn't have cared in the slightest.

Every single last one of Sadie's good reasons for avoiding a romance with Bucky Barnes fizzled away along with the rest of the world. Better judgment, propriety, and Army regulations be damned, Sadie wouldn't have traded any of that for the kiss they shared. She could have been kissing him in front of the entire allied forces and wouldn't have cared in the slightest, their kiss was that good. Bucky's lips were warm and so delightfully responsive, coaxing her into a fever pitch. He swept his tongue across her bottom lip and took advantage when Sadie's mouth parted in surprise. Bucky deepened the kiss, turning something already so perfect into nothing short of a religious experience. When at last the need for oxygen drove them apart, Sadie's chest heaved with exertion as it moved against his.

Bucky pressed his forehead against hers, panting slightly. Sadie took one of his hands and laced their fingers together and he brought the back of her hand to his lips, kissing it once. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "The first time I saw you I couldn't stop staring at you."

Sadie wondered if it were possible to die from happiness. Dropping her eyes, she bit her lower lip as she felt him move against her, setting a fire deep in her chest. "Is that why you made such an ass out of yourself?"

When he laughed she felt it reverberate through her entire body. Sadie's nerves lit up like a Christmas tree when he lazily dragged his knuckles down the length of her spine, his palm coming to rest flat at the small of her back. She made the mistake of inhaling and was nearly knocked flat by the smell of soap and something that was warm and reassuring and entirely Bucky. "I made an ass out of myself because it threw me off that you made me nervous. And even more that I didn't make you nervous."

"And you're used to making women nervous," she surmised softly, but then giggled when he dug a finger into her side.

"I'm used to women who aren't half as amazing as you are," said Bucky before he stole another kiss from her tender lips. "To be honest I've never been rejected like that and I completely deserved it. I'm glad you did it, actually."

A crimson flush flooded her cheeks. "About that. I'm so sorry. I let my temper get the better of me and I was so awful to you."

"There's nothing to apologize for, Sade."

The words tumbled out of her lips before she lost her courage. "I don't want you to go away, Bucky. I think I could spend forever right where I am as long as you're here with me."

Bucky answered her with a swift, uncompromising and passionate kiss. Sadie thought her heart might literally come out of her chest as he drank deep from her lips. One of his hands braced her between her shoulder blades and the other was just about to pop the pins holding her chignon in place when someone cleared his throat.

"Christ almighty, Bucky. Let the poor woman breathe!"

Sadie wasn't sure which one of them pulled away faster. Bucky wiped his face in a vain attempt to recover himself while Sadie was positive that Dum Dum Dugan could fry an egg on her cheeks. The Bostonian had a grin a mile-wide painted across his ruddy face and his blue eyes twinkled with devious amusement. Turning her gaze to the rough wood floor, Sadie wondered if it was physically possible for the earth to open up and swallow her whole in that moment.

"Hi Sergeant," she said faintly, worried for a moment that her knees would give for an entirely new reason.

Dugan's maniacal smile only widened and he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Do you want me to wait outside while you finish? Because I can keep watch if you want."

"Uhm, no, we're—good," Bucky said, looking at Sadie. Without much embarrassment, Bucky smiled at her and Sadie found herself smiling back. Yes they were definitely good, she thought as he had to duck his head to hide just how pleased he really was.

"Did you need something?"

Dugan shook off the better part of his amusement. "Yeah, Colonel Phillips wants to see us along with a couple other guys."

Bucky's brow furrowed. "Did he say why?"

"Nope," said Dugan popping the 'p.' "Just said to report to the SSR tents ASAP."

"Okay, I'll be right there."

Dugan snorted in laughter. "I don't believe that for a second."

Sadie fought the urge to poke her tongue out at Dugan and instead turned her focus on Bucky who turned to face her. "Are you off shift soon?"

She nodded. "I'll come find you later," she promised in a low voice and he nodded. "Now get out of here before I kick you out myself."

Bucky grinned quite idiotically at her as he walked backwards a couple of steps, mock saluting her. He spun on his heel and followed Dugan out of the tent, leaving Sadie alone once more. Now she got it, Sadie finally understood why all of the girls she'd known growing up got so giddy over a man. Covering her face with her hands, she covered her broad smile and she sank down onto the freshly made bed. Sadie sat there for a long time, wondering if the euphoric feeling thrumming in her veins would ever go away.

She hoped it never would.

 **A/N: It's so fluffy, I can't even. I wrote the original draft of the scene between Sadie and Bucky over a year ago and have been just dying for you all to read it since!**

 **Next chapter picks up immediately where we leave off. Expect to see the kick off to the giant commandos arc that comprises most of the rest of this fic, some humor, and quite possibly more fluff!**

 **Love the reunions? Happy for a reprieve from the fighting? In desperate need of more romance? Still anxious as to what's coming next? I would love to hear any and all thoughts! – Much love, Kappa.**


	18. First Dates and Handshakes

**A/N: Hey all! So, no joke, I love this chapter. I loved writing it, I love exploring the beginning of romantic relationships. This chapter is also another nice reprieve from the heavy action…we'll be returning to that long about chapter 20.**

 **Over 200 reviews! I'm over the moon. I know that WWII stories don't usually garner as much attention as Winter Soldier and post-Winter Soldier stories, so the fact that you are giving Songbirds this much love means the world to me. I think that pre-Winter Soldier Bucky deserves all the love, especially because there is so much to explore and unpack with his character where his actual war experience is concerned.**

 **Additionally I couldn't have more love for Stencil Your Heart who betas this story and talked me off a ledge where parts of this chapter are concerned!**

 **Usual warnings for language!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Captain America**_ **. I do own Sadie her co-workers and those pesky chorus girls!**

 **Chapter 18: First Dates and Handshakes**

Timothy 'Dum Dum' Dugan's face hurt. He liked to consider himself a fairly jovial sort of fellow but he'd never smiled so much in one day. The sources of his joy and amusement varied as the hours wore on from making a joke with Gabe Jones on the walk into the base camp or sharing a flask with Doug Lovitz. Though he could say with complete certainty the most amusing moment of his day was watching Bucky Barnes and Nurse Sadie Reid spring apart as though they'd been electrocuted. Never mind the fact that when Dugan first stumbled on them it was nearly impossible to tell one from the other they were so tightly embraced.

Dum Dum's wicked glee only heightened when Bucky followed him out of the ophthalmology tent seconds later, decidedly pink-cheeked. The Bostonian could only assume that Sadie was still inside, waiting until her total embarrassment faded before showing her face in public. Bucky remained silent as the two men started towards the SSR tents.

"So, looks like things went well," he said in his best nonchalant voice, unable to resist the temptation.

Bucky's lips quirked as he tried not to smile. "They did," he said casually, with an air of vagueness that suggested he wasn't about to kiss and tell all the juicy details. That didn't bother Dum Dum in the slightest; he preferred to keep Sadie squarely in the platonic column where she belonged. That didn't stop him from asking a question stemming back to a conversation they'd had weeks earlier, sitting in a dank cell with nothing better to do.

"Did you tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Bucky asked, facing doggedly ahead. Dum Dum got the distinct impression that his young friend knew exactly what he was referring to but chose to play dumb, possibly in hopes that he would give up the conversation altogether. Fat chance, thought Dum Dum. He liked to think of himself as a simple man with simple pursuits - none of which included chasing after women - but he simply couldn't help himself when presented with a situation such as this. Sometimes two people belonged together and that much was glaringly, almost painfully apparent with Bucky Barnes and Sadie Reid. So, if he could help move things along then he felt duty-bound to do so.

Dum Dum rolled his eyes. The tips of his fingers itched to hit Bucky upside the head for his idiocy but he tabled the impulse for the time being. "That you love her," he said slowly as though Bucky were stupid.

"There wasn't really time," he said thoughtlessly. Both men instantly realized the unintentional insinuation and started to laugh. "I didn't mean it like that. We needed to clear the air first. I'll tell her though, don't worry."

Yes, it was officially official - Bucky Barnes was a bona fide moron of the highest degree. "Bucky, I'm going to share a piece of sage advice and you should take it to heart."

Bucky's eyebrows flew up and he smirked at Dum Dum. " _You're_ going to give me advice about women? When was the last time you even went on a date?"

Dum Dum pointedly ignored his friend's insult. "I know more about women than you think and I'm here to tell you that you need to tell her how you feel. A dame like Sadie is too smart to let this go on too long without knowing where you two stand."

Bucky didn't immediately respond. He chewed over Dum Dum's words as the SSR tents loomed before them. Activity burst at the seams of the tents. Runners and orderlies were packing and carrying crates away to waiting jeeps and trucks and a couple of tents were already in the process of being dismantled. Already a small crowd of familiar faces milled about beneath the largest open tent. Several mismatched chairs were scattered through the space, presumably meant for the small group gathering together.

"I will tell her," said Bucky and somehow Dum Dum got the impression he wasn't really saying it to him. The way he spoke, it sounded more like a solemn promise and Dum Dum absently wondered how life altering this relationship was for the young lad. Bucky struck him as the type who played his way through the city, never staying in a relationship for too long. Certainly Bucky never starved for choice, but Dum Dum wondered if perhaps he'd also never really met his match until now.

"For your sake, I hope you do. She won't wait around forever."

"Who won't wait around forever?" Jim Morita asked as Dum Dum and Bucky joined the group assembled in the tent.

"My mother," Bucky lied with enviable ease. "She's probably worried that she hasn't heard from me in a few weeks. So what's going on?"

James Falsworth appeared at Dum Dum's elbow, clapping him once on the shoulder. His red beret sat at a jaunty angle over his sandy hair and he looked healthier than Dum Dum had ever seen him at the factory. He himself knew that a shower and a square meal could do wonders for a man. "No idea, though I can only assume it has to do with our time behind enemy lines."

That much was obvious, thought Dum Dum as Agent Peggy Carter ordered them all to take their seats. She stood at the front with Howard Stark, Captain Rogers, and Colonel Philips. Although she was a full head shorter than both Captain Rogers and Colonel Phillips, there was something impressive and downright intimidating about Agent Carter. Dum Dum assumed it was the way she held herself, shoulders thrown back and chin tipped up just a fraction. Determination practically radiated off her in waves, such that every pair of eyes remained on her when she introduced Rogers, Phillips, and Stark. The four of them made a fairly odd grouping. Bucky slumped down in the chair next to him and stretched his long legs out in the space before him, making bad posture look effortless.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here," said Colonel Philips as he replaced Agent Carter at the forefront of the gathering. "Captain Rogers has informed me that you all were instrumental in helping get four hundred of the finest men in the allied forces to safety. He also tells me that you all can provide much-needed intelligence about HYDRA and its plans. I don't think I need to tell you that this intelligence can change the tide of the war."

Every man sat up a little straighter. A wave of rumbling rolled through the gathering and Dum Dum shared a sidelong glance with Falsworth, who sat on his other side. "The army is grateful for your service and as a thank you for your bravery every one of you is headed to London on a thirty-day pass. During your stay you will be expected to meet with us at the SSR headquarters for a full debriefing of your time with HYDRA."

Dum Dum could hardly believe his luck. An entire month kicking around London? The city meant hot showers, comfortable beds, no combat, and most importantly decent food and drink. Thirty days away from the grind of life on the front lines was something he could certainly get used to; hell, it was enough to spoil a man rotten. Some of the finest pubs in the world were located in London along with access to some of the best cigars he could get his hands on. A thirty-day pass was pure paradise. Colonel Philips continued to drone on and Dum Dum only half-listened, already formulating his grand plans.

"Pack your bags tonight. You'll move out with the USO tomorrow at nine hundred hours. Dismissed!" Voices rose in excited babble as the group dispersed. Jacques Dernier and Gabe Jones were twittering away in French as they set off, Falsworth and Morita close behind. A few of the other men also filtered back towards the main part of camp, all deep in conversation about their blessed time off.

Steve Rogers cut through the crowd to join Bucky and Dum Dum. During the day and a half march back to base camp, Dum Dum discovered that Bucky and Rogers were childhood best friends, reunited by a series of fortuitous, if unbelievable, events. He turned a chair around and sat down, leaning over his thighs and planting his elbows on his knees. "Colonel Philips can't say it for sure yet, but I think there's a good chance you won't be coming back to Italy."

Bucky and Dum Dum shared a quizzical look, though it was Bucky who spoke first. "What do you mean?"

"Well, that wasn't the only HYDRA factory out there and someone's gonna have to clean them all up," he explained in a low voice so nobody else would hear him. It was evident from the eagerness in Steve's expression that he expected both men to be pleased at the news. Dum Dum glanced at Bucky and he could see his eyes hardening. What a conflict, he thought, feeling sorry for the boy. Having to choose between his best friend and what remained of his unit along with the girl of his dreams. That wasn't an easy position to be in.

"That'd be a hell of a thing, wouldn't it?" Dum Dum said hastily, trying to save Bucky from having to say anything.

Steve shrugged, keeping an appraising eye on Bucky. "Nothing's set in stone yet."

A hand landed on Steve's shoulder and everyone looked up to see Howard Stark, grinning at the trio. "You men look like you could use a meal or two," he said jovially. "I have it on good authority that some of Steve's lovely co-stars will be waiting for us at the field kitchen."

Nobody had the heart to tell Howard that it looked like he was the only man enamored with the thought of a bevy of chorus girls. However, despite the field kitchen's less than stellar culinary skills and lunch not long ago, Dum Dum was still hungry. Going three weeks without a real meal would do that to a man, he reasoned, and got to his feet with a small groan. He suspected his muscles would be stiff from his captivity and subsequent march for a while. Bucky and Steve followed suit and the together the quartet departed.

X X X

A year ago, if someone told Bucky that he'd march off to war with some of the best men he'd ever known, lead troops into battle, be held as a prisoner of war for three weeks, endure torture only to be rescued by his little-guy-turned-lab-rat best friend, and end up passionately kissing the woman he'd fallen in love with he would have laughed himself hoarse. It all seemed completely impossible and in fact, he couldn't pick out the most ridiculous facet of his life since coming to Italy. Each obstacle seemed insurmountable but he'd conquered it one way or another. But as he followed Howard Stark, Dugan, and Steve to the field kitchen Bucky found himself staring down the business end of the most daunting challenge of all.

How on earth was he going to tell Sadie that he was leaving the 107th for London, possibly permanently, right after they'd kissed each other breathless and all but declared their love for one another?

Bucky was beginning to think he'd rather take another couple of days locked in one of the birdcages as opposed to having to see the disappointment in Sadie's eyes when he told her. Or worse, what if she didn't care at all? What if she put on her usual all-business attitude, told him that it was a shame and sent him on his merry way? Rationally, Bucky knew that wasn't possible. No woman would kiss a man the way Sadie kissed him if she wasn't in this for the long haul and it stunned Bucky to realize that he was just as invested as she was. That made telling her he was leaving that much worse. Overthinking a situation was not something Bucky did, ever. Yet, there he was so deep in thought he didn't even realize they'd reached the field kitchen until Steve sat down and beckoned him to join.

"You alright?" Steve asked.

Bucky put on his best apathetic sort of lazy smile and nodded. "Yeah, nothing a meal can't fix. The food at Hotel HYDRA was shit."

"I'll say," agreed Dugan with a snort of laughter. Over Steve's head, Bucky could see Dugan give him a quick wink. Gratitude welled up in Bucky's chest. He wasn't ready to tell Steve about Sadie yet, mostly because he wasn't even sure what to say but also because he just wasn't ready for the 'I told you so' he knew was coming.

Bucky stepped over the bench and sat down across from Steve and started to relax when someone set a plate of food in front of him. Blinking stupidly at the tin plate, he lifted his eyes to watch a rather buxom girl set a plate in front of Steve.

"Here you go Captain, compliments of the chef," she purred and slithered her way between Steve and Dugan. Bucky had a pretty good idea of what was waiting for him on his left and sure enough when he turned his head, he found himself facing a chorus girl whose big blonde barrel curls were pinned artfully from her ivory face.

"Well, hello soldier," she said with a pronounced wink.

Bucky couldn't help but stare at her. Aside from Agent Carter, who he rarely every saw, Bucky hadn't seen a woman wearing a full face of makeup in months. Her wide doe-eyes were lined with winged black eyeliner and her lips were full and shining cherry red. The powder she wore smoothed out any perceived imperfections, giving her a lustrous sort of glow. She was beautiful, just the kind of girl Bucky would have gone for back home. But that was then.

"You didn't have to bring me anything, miss. I'm able to get my own dinner," he said demurely, hoping to keep her obvious interest at bay.

She giggled, either missing his subtle dismissal or ignoring it entirely. "I don't mind," she teased, her voice husky and containing a distinct New York lilt. Bucky thought with longing for the way Sadie spoke slow and deliberate, drawing out her vowels and reminding him of honey and hot tea. "Besides, I think you've earned your rest, don't you?"

Bucky shifted, pushing his fork around his plate for something to do. "I'm rested enough," he pointed out.

"You've been through quite the ordeal, soldier," she said with a soft coo, beckoning him closer.

The hair on the back of Bucky's neck rose and he bristled. This porcelain doll had absolutely no idea. She couldn't even fathom the nightmare he'd endured, how could she? Not even Dugan, who'd been in that hell hole with him, could understand the nightmares Bucky clawed his way out of. His hallucinations had been so visceral and so real that even now he feared every time he blinked he'd find himself staring at his friends and family lying dead in cages. A shudder slipped down his spine and when he glanced up he saw Steve staring at him, concerned. Bucky realized he'd been holding his fork with a white-knuckled grip. Unclenching his hand hurt but he managed to piece himself back together and drummed up one last strained smile for his admirer.

"I'm just fine. The doctors and nurses at the hospital took great care of me."

The chorus girl made a little hissing noise and one of her friends who had her arm casually slung around Howard Stark giggled. "I still can't get over the nurses. Can you imagine running around all the time wearing a man's uniform?"

Next to Bucky, the blonde rolled her eyes. "I'd just as soon be caught dead without my hair and makeup done up. Have you seen their tents yet? They sleep four of five to a tent and wear the same stained uniforms every day. It's practically savage."

Dugan was just as stone-faced as Bucky now. There were lines that just weren't crossed. When men acted inappropriately towards the nurses they were put in their place and it was clear the Bostonian was itching to speak his mind. Steve shifted uncomfortably, reading the displeasure on his friends old and new. "The whole hospital staff works really hard," he said trying to placate the situation. "I've seen one of those nurses help bring a grown man to the ground."

That wasn't the half of it, thought Bucky but Dugan beat him to the punchline. "Some of those nurses you're talking about have died protecting the likes of us; we owe them a lot."

"Oh that's very kind of you, Sergeant Dugan, but you don't owe us anything. We're just doing our duty, same as everyone else."

Every person at the table shot straight up and Bucky turned around to see Sadie standing behind him, arms folded loosely over her chest. In his chest, his heart broke into a hard sprint. How was it that just a little while ago he'd felt her body mold to his and felt her come alive beneath his touch? Already he ached to feel her mouth search his out. He wanted to experience the silky caress of her lips on his and taste her again. When would he get to slip his fingers through her dark curls and wrap his arm around her narrow waist again?

"Nurse Reid!" Said Steve happily and Bucky did a double-take. Since when did Steve know Sadie?

"Won't you join us? You can educate everyone here about the rigors of nursing life," said Howard with his patent lazy smirk.

Sadie arched an unamused eyebrow and Bucky fell just a little further in love with her. "That's a tempting offer, Mr. Stark, but I'm actually here for Sergeant Barnes."

Every set of eyes fell on him and Bucky felt his whole body stiffen. "What can I do for you, Nurse Reid?" He asked, hoping desperately that he sounded as casual as could be.

"Doctor Holmes was reviewing your patient chart and noted that the nurse who examined you didn't follow up on some unusual bruising. He was hoping you wouldn't mind coming back to the hospital with me for a follow-up exam?"

Bucky furrowed his brow. He didn't remember anything about his bruises coming up during his brief exam. The nurse who took care of him was friendly and thorough, telling him to keep and eye on the bruising on the inside of his elbow, which she didn't connect with needle marks. Perhaps she hadn't said anything to him but meant to tell a doctor later? Whatever the reason, Bucky was glad for an excuse to get away and even happier to see Sadie.

"I'm all yours, Nurse Reid," he said, meaning it in more way than one.

If Sadie caught his double meaning, she didn't let it show. Damn her constant professionalism!

"Lovely," she said and waited patiently for Bucky to work his way out of the tightly packed bench. Leaving his meal, his friends, and the too-eager chorus girl behind he came to Sadie's side. Gesturing towards the general direction of the hospital he grinned.

"Lead the way, Nurse," he said genially.

X X X

Dusk settled over base camp as Bucky followed Sadie away from the field kitchen. Brilliant shades of orange, yellow, and pink blended together, forming a stunning backdrop to the end of a long day. A long day but a good one, thought Bucky as he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked along side Sadie. Soon, dusk would give way to darkness and already several people were lighting lanterns and firing up generators to bring light to base camp. Next to him, Sadie pushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear. All of her abundant dark hair was spun in a loose knot at the nape of her neck and she'd changed into a fresh uniform. Bucky followed her blindly, just happy to be with her and away from everyone else. It wasn't until she took a sharp left away from the field hospital did Bucky notice something was amiss.

"So, are we going to the hospital?"

Sadie laughed and shook her head. "God no, I finished my shift an hour ago. I was looking for a believable excuse to get you away from everyone else and that was it."

Bucky's face split into an appreciative smile and he reached down, grabbing her hand. Breaking into a light jog he led her between two large and abandoned covered trucks, each sitting close to the large USO tents. A gasp escaped her as he gently swung her around and walked right into her, crouching low enough to bring his arms all the way around her narrow frame and lift her off the ground. Sadie's musical laughter sang in his ears while she wound her arms around his neck.

"Sadie Reid, lying to get a guy alone. I didn't know you had it in you," said Bucky when she pulled back to look down at him, mischief twinkling in her silvery eyes.

"Neither did I," she said, sweeping his hair from his forehead. The slightest brush of her fingers lit up his nerves in rapid succession, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine and making him ache for more.

Carefully, Bucky lowered her back to the ground, purposely letting her body graze his as she went. An innocent flush swirled in her cheeks that only made the ache worse and served as a reminder that Bucky was dealing with an entirely different kind of woman. Although he was certain that Sadie had her share of interested suitors, he was also certain that she was untouched and completely inexperienced and that made him nervous. Bucky didn't want to mess this up but he couldn't help but want to keep his hands on her, wherever she'd let him. For now he enjoyed seeing her wide-eyed and speechless for the first time since their meeting. It was all too much for him and he cradled her face in his hand and leaned down, kissing her softly.

Sadie reciprocated, fingers dancing over his shoulders. As perfect as her mouth was to look at, experiencing her kiss was a whole new level of satisfaction for Bucky. He nipped her lower lip with his teeth, smiling when she faltered slightly and tightened her grip on him. Inexperienced, perhaps, but Bucky could tell that in this one regard, Sadie knew exactly what she was doing as she rose to the tips of her toes and dared to deepen the kiss, tongue moving out to meet his. Her hands left his shoulders, grasping and bunching the fabric of his shirt at his sides, pulling him a fraction closer. It took every ounce of Bucky's willpower to keep from lifting her back up, wrapping her long legs around his waist and backing her against the truck behind her.

The temptation was enough to force him to break the kiss. Sadie stared up at him through her eyelashes, lips softly parted and a touch swollen. Bucky wished he had a camera so he could photograph exactly how she looked in that moment, loose strands of hair framing her beautiful face. Her skin practically glowed with youth and vitality, and for some inexplicable reason she'd chosen him. He drew his thumb across her lower lip, enjoying the blood that stained her cheeks when he did so.

"Bucky?"

Sadie's soft voice pulled him out of his reverie. He'd been staring, first at her and then off into the distance. The façade he'd managed to hold up since his rescue cracked as he refocused on her. "I-it's just," he started to say and then stopped when Sadie framed his jaw with one of her hands. He blinked once, faced once again with the vision of her lying on an exam table, arm hanging limply over the side. Grimacing, he tried to dispel the sight of her blood trickling to a stop, pooling on the floor and spreading towards him. She'd been dead; he'd watched the light flicker from her eyes.

Bucky's need to have her with him, to be absolutely sure she was alive, drove him to sweep her back into his chest. Methodically he pulled the pins from her hair until the dark mass unfurled and he buried his face in the mass of curls that sat on her shoulder. Comfort flowed from her straight into him, comfort Bucky hadn't even realized he badly needed. The overwhelming emotions he'd kept at bay, all of the awful things about his captivity came rushing back. Closing his eyes, he tried to stay in the moment, but it wasn't easy.

"It's alright," said Sadie.

Involuntarily his arms squeezed tighter and he thought he might be hurting Sadie, but she just slipped one hand around the back of his neck and wore a comforting path on his skin with her thumb. She nuzzled deeper into his chest and said the words Bucky desperately needed to hear.

"It's my turn to be right here. And I'm not going anywhere."

Bucky almost told her he loved her right then and there, but the words wouldn't come out. Nothing would. At long last a smile touched his lips when she rested her hand against his chest, tapping two fingers against his breast bone in time with the beat of his heart. The action soothed him and calmed his thoroughly frayed nerves. Bucky lost track of how long he held her that way, soaking up every ounce of relief she offered, but eventually his mind quieted and drifted back to the unpleasant news he had to deliver. Pulling back, he slid his hands down her arms to lace their fingers together. It was dark now but the light from the USO tents provided just enough illumination for him to get a good look at her concerned expression. Sadie really knew him better than he'd thought.

"What's wrong?"

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Tugging gently on her hands, he pulled her around to the back of one of the trucks. Sure enough the canvas flaps were unlaced, revealing a half-full truck bed and enough space for the two of them. Sadie got the message and without waiting for Bucky, pulled herself up and into the back of the truck. Bucky followed and drew further down the bed until he found a good spot and he paused before touching the small of her back and leading her down with him. Bucky sat with his back against a large wood board, likely from the USO stage. Sadie sank to her knees and he tried not to imagine seeing her this way under vastly different circumstances.

"I have to tell you something," he said when she was settled.

"Is it about your meeting?"

Bucky swallowed hard. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Colonel Phillips gave a bunch of the prisoners a thirty-day pass in London. He wants to interview us about what happened and to gather intelligence."

Sadie's face screwed up in disappointment before smoothing over, poker straight. "I see."

"Sade, I don't want to leave. Not now, God, especially not now. Do you know how hard it's going to be to leave after what's already happened between us?"

She ducked her head and released a short, unamused laugh. "I've got a vague reckoning."

"I don't want you to be upset," he said and sat up a little straighter, watching the half of her face that he could see in the orange light that filtered into the truck.

Sadie shrugged, not looking at him. She inspected her hands as she spoke. "Of course I'm upset. You just got back and I don't really want to give you up. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved you won't be going back to the front line immediately. You might look and pretend like you're fine but I know better." Leaning forward, she placed her hands on his knees. "You need to recover, Bucky. And if the Army thinks London is the best place for that then I can't argue. Besides, we'll see each other again."

Bucky reached for her, guiding her to turn around and sit between his open legs. The hitch in Sadie's breath told him to go slow, to let her move at her own pace. Eventually, she settled, sweeping her loose hair over one shoulder and resting her back against his chest.

"We will. Until then we'll write to each other."

His arm slithered over her shoulder, coming to rest loosely across her collar while his other hand twisted into her luxurious hair. "You'd best write to me, buck sergeant," she warned playfully.

"Of course I will, I've got to start digging around to figure out your favorite things – your favorite flower and color and all that." Sadie tipped her chin up and he thought he'd reached a new nirvana when she pressed a tender kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"My favorite flowers are peonies and I like the color blue."

"See? I didn't know either of those things. Now I know that for our first date I should bring you peonies and wear a blue tie."

Sadie laughed. "Our first date, huh? Where will we go?"

Bucky tilted his head back, pretending to think long and hard on the subject. "Anywhere you want! Sky's the limit," he said, stretching one of his legs out. Noises and movement around the truck should have kept him alert but he was too comfortable to care. Sadie's body fit perfectly against his, as though she'd been designed to be there.

"It really doesn't matter," she murmured. "Just as long as it's not in Italy."

Their mutual laughter filled the truck. Bucky looked down at her and a new smile tugged at his lips. Gingerly he twirled his finger around one of her curls. "I've never seen your hair down before, I like it."

"Mm and thanks to you I've lost several good hairpins," she teased but touched the side of his face all the same. "You should plan to bring new ones on our first date."

"I'll plan on it," he muttered before his kissed her. Seconds slipped into minutes slipped into a few hours spent lost in one another. Their conversation was spent learning new facts, sharing secrets and exchanging sweet nothings between periods where they didn't do much talking at all. By the time Bucky walked Sadie back to the women's camp he was absolutely certain of one thing.

The first thing he was going to do when he got back to Brooklyn was marry Sadie Reid.

X X X

The following morning dawned cool and clear over a bustling base camp. The staff for the USO and field hospital were in a full frenzy, working at top speed to load trucks with supplies and gear and prepare the wounded for evacuation. The SSR were leaving as well and during a half-second's pause, Sadie caught a glimpse of Peggy ordering a pair of hapless orderlies as they gathered maps and carried boxes full of documents to their convoys.

Early that morning Sadie managed to catch her friend at the field kitchen getting coffee. They'd said a warm goodbye, each woman promising to write the other while they were on opposite ends of the continent. Not long after their brief exchange, Sadie immersed herself in her duties, trying not to think about Bucky's impending departure.

"Sadie? Can you give me a hand?"

"Hmm?" She asked, looking over to where Marjorie was struggling with a particularly large crate of supplies. Leaving her post supervising the technicians carrying stretchers out to one of the waiting ambulances, Sadie took the other end of the heavy crate and with an almighty heave, the women managed to load the box onto the back of an open convoy truck.

"On the bright side, we won't have to load any of this stuff when the rest of the 107th moves out." Marjorie said through her light panting.

That wasn't much comfort to Sadie at the moment, though she knew she'd heartily agree when the time came. Already rumblings were moving through the hospital staff. With significantly fewer patients and no fighting, there was little incentive for the Army to keep the 80th where it was, or the 107th for that matter. Everyone knew they would clear out as soon as orders came down and though not a soul dared say it, everyone was already dreading the return to southern Italy.

Sweeping a loose lock of hair from her forehead, Sadie returned to checking patients as technicians carried them out. The boxes containing their charts were already loaded and she rapidly checked each soldier off on a check list she'd carried around most of the morning. Evacuation was slow and tedious but necessary, too many men tried to sneak back to stay with their units; no man wanted to be reassigned to a strange unit after spending so long fighting together.

Eventually, Sadie checked the last name off her roster. She gave the roster to one of the ambulance drivers, relieved to see her patients headed for safety at last. Just as she started to consider what to do next Marjorie's voice interrupted her.

"Captain Rogers is so handsome," she sighed longingly. "His friend's not too bad either."

Sadie turned around and sucked in a tight breath. A figure cut through the hustle and bustle of the crowd. As long as she lived, Sadie would never forget the sight of Bucky walking along with Steve, laughing at something his friend said. The morning sun slanted over his chestnut hair and illuminated the handsome smile that lit up his entire face. Her stomach turned itself into a neat bow, sending shivers racing to her fingers and toes. Already the pangs of separation needled her nerves, reminding her that soon they would be hundreds of miles apart.

Perhaps the distance wouldn't have bothered Sadie so much if she could tell him everything she wanted to say before he left. But there wouldn't be enough time; she wasn't sure she even knew how to tell him everything that still remained in her heart. How could Sadie tell him that he'd changed her life in ways she never imagined? Bucky had waltzed into her life without a care in the world and unknowingly demolished the walls she'd put up. She'd sworn that she wouldn't fall for a soldier and the reality was, she hadn't. As Bucky slung his bag onto the back of a troop convoy, Sadie finally appreciated the truth. It seemed no matter how she looked at the situation, Sadie knew that she and Bucky were destined to meet and that she would have fallen in love with him anywhere. Their lives were inexplicably intertwined, causing her to remember the words her mother said once when she was still a teenager.

 _"Sadie, the funny thing about love is that you don't have to look very hard for it. And trust me darling, when you meet the right man, you'll just know. Love is powerful and wily, but when you know you just know."_

Over the years Sadie tried to decipher her mother's back country wisdom, unable to fathom the notion of automatically knowing something she couldn't learn. Bucky's eyes found her across the road and he gave her a crooked smile, motioning for her to stay exactly where she was. Sadie wouldn't have gone anywhere else for anything in the world. As she looked at him, she finally understood her mother's words. Sadie couldn't explain it but when Bucky crossed the road grinning at her the whole way, she just knew. One way or another, Sadie knew that this rough and poor Brooklyn boy was it for her, New York accent and all.

He reached her within a few strides, hands firmly in his pockets lest he make some romantic gesture that gave them away. "Want to go for a short walk?" He asked rocking back on his heels.

For the rest of her life, she thought, practically melting at the thought. Instead of voicing her real thoughts, she tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and nodded. "Yeah, a walk sounds good."

Bucky grinned and gently bumped her shoulder with his as they slipped away from the commotion, entirely unnoticed except by a petite redhead. For a while they walked in comfortable silence, each soaking up their precious last moments together for the foreseeable future. Sadie privately marveled that any wife or fiancé or girlfriend had the strength to say goodbye to their love. Bucky was only going away for a month, yet it felt like a decade.

"So I've been thinking," he said.

"Always dangerous," she teased lightly and didn't object when he reached down for her hand, twining their fingers together and pulling her into an empty hospital tent.

"About our first date," he said, standing in front of her and looking immensely pleased with himself. "Forget fancy restaurants and crowded dance halls. I want to take you away from the cities, where you're not surrounded by a hundred other couples and I can actually hear you when we're talking."

As Bucky spoke he stepped closer to her, resting his hand on the curve of her neck. "You don't want to go dancing?"

"We can go dancing any time, that's not special," he explained. Bucky bowed his head to watch as Sadie slid her palm over his side, moving to wind her arm around him. "I want to take a drive out where we can't see the city lights. I'll bring a bottle of champagne and we can watch the sunset. It'll be nice, romantic."

There was the city sensibility Sadie loved. But Bucky must have known her better than she thought, because Sadie adored perfect sunsets. "It sounds lovely," she whispered, laying her head against his shoulder. "No loud music, no planes overhead, no guns, no war."

"Just you and me," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "And if we lose track of time I'll bring a blanket."

Sadie let out a low, soft laugh. "You'd like that, I'm sure."

"I'd like all of you," he muttered into her hair. The sentiment resonated so deeply with Sadie she wondered how they'd gone their entire lives without knowing each other. "But until then I'll settle for as much as this war will give me."

"You know," she said in a teasing voice, pulling away from him, taking one of his hands. "You still haven't asked me out on this grand first date yet."

Bucky laughed. She tried to commit the sound to her memory, savoring the richness. "You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?"

The spark that Sadie suspected would always burn between them flickered a little brighter. She rose to the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Not on your life, buck sergeant."

"So we're back to buck sergeant now?" He enquired but she could see the humor dancing in his blue eyes. Rolling his shoulders back he pretended to crack his neck and knuckles. Raising an eyebrow, he grinned when he caught her trying to stifle a laugh. "Give a guy a second, here. I haven't asked a dame out in a while and not one nearly as beautiful or as intimidating as you."

Sadie's jaw dropped in mock outrage. Before she had a chance to speak however, Bucky placed his palm over her mouth. "Don't ruin the moment," he warned playfully and took a deep breath. "Sadie Reid, will you please put me out of my misery and go out with me?"

"Yes," she said simply. "I'd love to."

Just as Bucky moved to kiss her, the tent flap rustled. "Sadie? Are you in here? Doc Holmes has been looking everywhere for you-oh."

Evelyn stood in the entryway. Her scarlet blush clashed magnificently with her hair. Sadie panicked. What was she supposed to do? Finish what she was in the middle of and kiss Bucky right there in front of her friend? "I'm sorry, Evie! I was just saying goodbye to Sergeant Barnes." Turning back to Bucky, Sadie tried to ignore the blatant disappointment on his handsome face. She did the first thing she could think of to alleviate the tension, which only ended up making things ten times worse. Sticking her hand out, she swallowed hard. "Have a safe trip to London, Sergeant."

Openly confused and more than a little hurt, Bucky took her hand and she shook it. "Thanks, I should probably get back to my convoy now that you mention it. Take care of yourself, alright?"

Their eyes met and Sadie wished she could make herself say the right thing. Why couldn't she just tell him the truth, even if Evelyn was standing right behind her? "Goodbye, Bucky."

Bucky deflated and nodded once, squeezing her shoulder before he left the tent. Evelyn watched him go, horrified in her shock. "What the on earth was that?" She asked, her voice drawing the words out to convey her utter disbelief.

Tears stung her lower eyelids. Sadie wondered if it was too late to run after him, to make it all right. Wiping them away with the back of her hand, Sadie turned her back on her friend while she tried to collect herself. "I really don't want to talk about it!"

Evelyn held up her hands defensively. "Okay, okay! I mean, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were – oh, OH! Sadie, I am so sorry. What was I thinking? You need to go after him!"

Bucky would be halfway back to the convoy by now. "Evie, I can't. You know that I can't! Even if I could I wouldn't want to cause a scene."

Sadie shouted in surprise as Evelyn grabbed her and shoved her out of the tent. "To hell with making a scene! Go after him! Sadie, if you love him half as much as I think you do then you need to fix this before he goes to London. Do I need to remind you what London is chock full of? Single women!"

"Oh my God, you're right."

Both women ran the distance back to the convoys and Sadie nearly fell head over heels as they came to a stop, bursting through the crowd to the edge. Already the engines were rumbling to life and she desperately searched the crowd for him. Three trucks down from the head she found Bucky, sitting next to Steve and looking decidedly glum. Sadie swallowed her pride and better judgment, moving away from the crowds and approached the truck. As she walked she unbuttoned her breast pocket and removed a well-loved piece of paper.

"Sergeant Barnes!" She called out.

Bucky swiveled around. "Nurse Reid?"

Sadie approached the side of the truck and held up the note he'd written her three weeks ago. "Sorry I didn't have time to write one of my own, but I suppose it's my turn to be the idiot," she said and let him pluck the note from her fingers just as the truck began to roll away.

She watched him unfold the note, scan the contents and then laugh. His broad grin relieved and hurt Sadie in equal turns. Sadie hated watching him go. She supposed that she always would. But at least for now she knew he was going on with no doubt as to her feelings, with the promise of a real date on the horizon.

Yes, Sadie's mother was right as she usually was. She returned to Evelyn, keeping her head down to hide her smile as she uttered her mother's words to herself. "When you know, you know."

X X X

 _Dear Sadie,_

 _I've tried to write this letter about a dozen times, trying to make myself sound a lot more interesting than I really am. London is cold and wet and you're not in it, which means it's terrible. I never thought I'd miss Italy but I do. Actually, I miss you. I honestly couldn't care less about anything else in that place. Wherever you are I hope you're staying safe and taking care of yourself._

Bucky sighed and set his pen down, staring at the few lines he'd cobbled together. Groaning, he scribbled across the page, wadded it up and threw it across his small hotel room, hitting the edge of a wastepaper basket. The paper fell listlessly to the floor and came to rest next to another six or so crumpled pages. Rubbing his face, Bucky turned his chair away from the small desk on the far side of the room, sitting beneath one of the two windows in his room. He thought back to the books he'd read in high school and about hearing his old girlfriends fawning over romantic songs on the radio.

How did those authors do it? He'd spent the better part of the last week trying to come up with the right words to put in his first letter to Sadie. Initially he thought it couldn't possibly be difficult. After all, how hard could it be to write a letter explaining his journey to London, the city itself, all while telling Sadie how much he missed her, loved her and wanted to kiss her until she forgot her own name without actually telling her all of those things? It turned out achieving that end result was painfully difficult, to the point where Bucky was beginning worry.

Worry. It wasn't an unfamiliar emotion. Bucky spent a good deal of his childhood worrying about Steve and his little sister. He'd chew his fingernails down to the quick every time Steve came down with something new and couldn't leave the apartment. He'd pace incessantly when his mother told him Steve was back in the hospital. As Rebecca started to grow older and more beautiful by the passing minute, Bucky worried about the worst possible scenario—that she'd meet someone exactly like him. He'd been so worried about that, in fact, that he'd purposely tried to push her in the direction of guys like Steve, hoping she'd get the message.

But James Buchanan Barnes had never, ever worried about women. For the longest time he'd thought it just wasn't in his blood. The girls he dated came and went with ease and while he was never cruel, he'd never worried much about their well-being after they split. He'd never had to worry about their safety or whether they were staying out of mortal danger. Hell, Bucky never worried about his girls meeting other guys; if they did that was the way the world worked and he'd move on to the next. Life was simple in that department and it was entirely worry-free.

So why did Sadie Reid have to come in and ruin that for him? Lately it seemed that all Bucky did was brood and worry about Sadie. In the spare moments of quiet that slipped into the gaps in his day, Bucky found himself positively beside himself, worried that she'd managed to get herself into trouble again. There were no updates; it was too soon to receive a letter from her and Bucky had no idea where she was, who she was with, and if she was in one piece. It was enough to drive him to madness and it left him in awe of couples that had gone months, even years without seeing each other during this godforsaken war. It had only been a week and already he was on the verge of going back to Italy just to make sure she was all right and that she hadn't changed her mind about him.

When he thought too much about it his mind inevitably crawled back to one of the worst nights in his recent memory. He would never forget sitting in a foxhole for hours with the knowledge that the 80th Field Hospital had been blown to hell and took a few nurses with it. Waiting through the long night and into the dawn to learn whether Sadie was alive or not was nearly unbearable. And that had been before Bucky even realized he was in love.

Bucky got to his feet, leaving behind the dwindling stack of paper and his pen. There was no way he'd come up with anything in the next five minutes. Steve was due to drop by at any second so they could walk down the street to a nearby pub for a drink. Since arriving in London a week earlier, Steve spent the better part of his time holed up in the underground bunker that the SSR called home. Meeting after meeting kept him so busy that Bucky barely saw him and even then it was only for a short meal or in passing. He'd spent most of his free time rattling around the city with Dugan and Gabe Jones or sleeping as much as he could. Whatever Steve was up to, Bucky had an idea that it involved an elaborate plan, one that would inevitably suck him in.

He paused in front of the mirror hanging over his dresser. Bucky grimaced and combed his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look presentable. Every time he walked past his own reflection, Bucky found something different he hadn't noticed before. To anyone who knew him before the war, the changes were likely subtle, even unnoticeable. But to him the circles beneath his eyes, the deeper hollow of his cheeks and the pallor of his skin were blindingly obvious. During the time it took to reach London and the week that followed, he'd been eating at every opportunity to regain the weight he'd lost in captivity but there was very little Bucky could do about the haunted light he occasionally saw in his eyes or the nightmares that woke him every few nights.

War was hell, this fact he knew all too readily. But he hadn't expected the fallout. Sometimes Bucky found himself staring off into nothing, mind lost down a hundred dark roads. The furtive glances that Steve gave him when they were together told Bucky that his friend had noticed too. Upon leaving the 107th behind, Bucky made it abundantly clear he wasn't in a mood to talk about his prison experience until he absolutely had to, though Steve unblushingly reminded him of one constant fact.

"Whenever you're ready, Buck. I'm always around."

A knock at the door startled him. Sighing, Bucky decided there was nothing more he could do for his reflection and opened the door. Sure enough, Steve stood on the other side, looking every inch the consummate, perfect soldier. His brown eyes flicked down to Bucky's unkempt uniform and although he raised a single eyebrow, he didn't dare object.

"Ready?"

"Uh, yeah," said Bucky, following him out into the hallway. "So, what's this big news you're going to share with everyone tonight?"

Steve grimaced, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Is it that obvious?"

"You've been a ghost the past week. I'm just assuming that you're putting together a plan to take out all of HYDRA at once and then devise a plan to push Hitler off the nearest cliff so we can all go home early."

Steve laughed and jogged lightly down the stairs to the lobby of their hotel. "I don't know about taking all of HYDRA at once. But that's the general plan, actually."

Bucky let out a low whistle. He couldn't even pretend to be surprised. He waited to ask his next question until they were outside, walking through a light mist to the pub just around the corner. "So who do you have in mind to help you on this insane mission of yours?"

"It's funny you ask," said Steve almost nervously. Bucky grinned recklessly. He'd already known the answer but enjoyed watching Steve squirm a little as he got to the point. Their apparent role reversal was strange enough for Bucky as it was; Steve certainly couldn't expect him to make it entirely painless along the way. As they continued to walk, Steve launched into the full explanation about the team the SSR was putting together to take out each individual HYDRA base and factory. Along the way, Steve thought his team would possibly help out when the Allies finally invaded Europe. Bucky listened intently, noting the names Steve rattled off and all the extra training they'd all have to do before even starting.

"So, what do you think?" Steve asked as they ducked into the pub.

Bucky clapped him on the shoulder. "I think it's not me you have to worry about. Try explaining all that to them."

He gestured to the motley crew of guys singing a song and clinking their half-empty pints together. Dugan's ruddy face was even redder than usual while Gabe and Dernier had their arms around each other, throwing their hands out dramatically as they belted the tune. Bucky grinned. Leave it to those guys to start without them.

"Captain Rogers!" Dugan bellowed over the din of the crowded pub. Several local patrons cast the booming American furtive glances. Bucky slapped Steve once on the back.

"I'll leave you to it. You can buy me a drink when you're done."

X X X

It turned out that Steve's greatest challenge of the evening had nothing to do with convincing a gang of drunk soldiers to join his insane quest to destroy HYDRA. The greatest hurdle he had to clear came in the form of a brunette wearing a form fitting red dress that left even Bucky wiping his jaw off the floor. Agent Carter was a classic beauty and possessed an easy ability to leave men tongue tied in her wake. She'd certainly left Steve star-struck after her brief appearance before heading off into the city for a night out.

Despite Agent Carter's out of hand dismissal and Steve's equally unforgiving joke, Bucky couldn't help but enjoy his friend's mildly dumbfounded state. He knew it was likely wrong, but he took more than a little satisfaction out of knowing that his best friend still couldn't get a girl to save his life. The scales felt more out of balance than they ever had in Bucky's friendship with Steve, but at least Steve still couldn't talk to women. At the moment Steve turned back to his beer, sulking in a way that reminded Bucky of the old Steve.

"Bad luck," he said, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "She'll come around, though."

"Yeah, wonder how long that'll take."

"Isn't it worth being patient for the right partner?" Bucky teased, earning an elbow to his side.

"Shut up," said Steve, his Brooklyn accent coming on thick. "Besides, from what I hear you've got no room to talk."

Bucky's insides grew cold and squirmed uncomfortably. He'd been wondering how long it would take for his own personal romantic woes to come up. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Bucky downed the remainder of his whiskey and slid the empty glass across the bar, motioning to the bartender for another. The stuffy British man arched a judgmental eyebrow, muttered something about over sauced yanks, but went to retrieve the bottle all the same. "Oh, so there must be another Bucky Barnes who is head over heels for a nurse named Sadie."

"Remind me to give Dum Dum a good kick the next time I see him," muttered Bucky. Steve grinned at his friend and already Bucky hated it. There was a particular expression Steve liked to trot out on occasions when he was absolutely right and he wanted everyone to know it. The patented Steve Rogers 'I told you so' face was one of Bucky's least favorite things in the world because it usually meant that he himself was dead wrong. This instance was no exception to the rule.

"Word has it that Sadie is immune to your charm but you're still chasing after her anyway."

Bucky thought about the quiet moments in the exam tent and again in the back of a USO truck. He could feel the chain of his dog tags bite into the skin at the back of his neck as Sadie grasped his tags to pull him to her. Even now his lips tingled at the mere memory of her kiss, her lips soft and silky against his chapped mouth. Bucky knew how her waist felt in his hands and the texture of her curls that his fingers had so effortlessly tangled in. She tasted sweet and left his entire body burning for more.

"She's not totally immune," replied Bucky, grinning at the mental image of her slightly hooded eyes memorizing the details of his face before he kissed her again.

"So you kissed her," surmised Steve.

"Actually, she kissed me."

"And?"

"And then you went and got me transferred to this dog and pony show. Besides, the last time we saw each other things ended on a confusing note."

Steve took a long pull from his beer before he spoke again. "What happened?"

Bucky scowled. The last thing he felt like doing was telling his best friend what amounted to possibly one of the more embarrassing moments of his life. Despite Steve's compassion and overwhelming kindness, he never missed an opportunity to take the absolute shit out of Bucky if he could help it. "We were saying goodbye when Sadie's friend Evelyn interrupted us."

"So? That doesn't sound too terrible."

Bucky sank lower in his chair. "She shook my hand before I left."

Steve threw his head back and laughed. In fact, he laughed so loudly that several patrons set their drinks down to glare at him and Bucky wondered how far he could get if he tried to bolt for the door. Over the years, Bucky had endured his fair share of embarrassing moments when it came to women, but he'd never outright struck out and now he'd done it twice with the same infuriating, beautiful, challenging woman. Christmas had clearly come early for Steve Rogers, who was still laughing when he managed to string a coherent thought together. "That is just too good," he said, wiping a couple of tears of mirth from beneath his eyes. "Good for her!"

Bucky scowled. "Oh yeah, real good for her," he groused sarcastically. "I was doing just fine before Sadie came along like a goddamn tornado."

By now, Steve collected himself and fixed Bucky with a more serious though still amused expression. It was painfully obvious that he was thoroughly enjoying himself, all at Bucky's expense. "I'm no expert, but it sounds like you're in love."

"And it's just spectacular," admitted Bucky grimly. Steve was absolutely beside himself, only further irritating Bucky. "Oh would you stop enjoying yourself so much? I never gave you this much shit about girls when we were growing up."

"I knew it! Didn't I say you were going to meet a girl you couldn't charm and look what's happened? You're lovesick!" Steve exclaimed, thumping him hard on the back. Bucky coughed, still unused to Steve's newfound strength.

Bucky drained his scotch and got to his feet, sliding off the leather barstool. "That's it, I'm gonna go get drunk with Dum Dum and Gabe over where it's fun."

Steve followed him, laughing all the way to the table.

 **A/N: If Sadie and Bucky were any cuter I doubt I'd be able to stomach writing them. Next chapter features some SSR planning, some Steve Rogers scheming and Bucky being an idiot.**

 **I live for your feedback and I'd love to hear your thoughts, questions, predictions, favorite bits, anything! Much love – Kappa.**


	19. Love Letters and Long Distances

**A/N: I'm sorry for making you wait so long! This year I did NaNoWriMo for the first time and I spent all of November working on the first draft of my first original novel and before that I spent all of October planning. As a result I put Songbirds on the back burner for a bit! To make it up to you here's a nice long chapter full of fluff and a little bit of setup.**

 **Thank you for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows! Extra thanks to Stencil Your Heart for being the best beta ever!**

 **The usual warnings for language apply**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Cap. Wouldn't that be nice…**

 **Chapter 19: Love Letters and Long Distances**

 _December 1, 1943_

 _Dear Bucky,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well and in good company. You must be in London by now enjoying a few comforts I can only dream about in my current state. Is the weather as cold and foggy as the rumors suggest? Growing up I read quite a bit of literature from English authors and I've always wanted to see the English countryside and rainy London myself. I'm sure you're enjoying yourself and the time away from the line. When I last wrote to you the 80_ _th_ _and 107_ _th_ _were headed south once more to join up with the rest of the Allied forces in preparation for the campaign to Rome. We arrived in Naples only a few days ago._

 _Naples is beautiful even in December. Some day I'd like to come back and see the city the way you're meant to. Every evening the sun sets over the city and illuminates the tile roofs so they shine like copper. I wish I had the time to wander the streets until I'm so lost it takes all day to find my way back, discovering as many secrets as I can along the way. The few locals who stayed behind are uncommonly kind though they generally stay out of the way in their small villas on the outskirts of town. If I could speak even a word of Italian I'd love to listen to what life here was like before the war. The city must have been full of so much charm before the war, though sometimes it hard to see it amidst all the rubble and military presence._

 _Since arriving, the hospital has kept me busy, and I'm training two additional nurses to support the first and second wards. They're young and very green compared to the rest of the staff and I worry how they'll fare when we move out in a few days to begin a new campaign. The men in the 107_ _th_ _have been training day and night. I spoke with Douglas Lovitz only yesterday, you'll be happy to learn that he's returned to active duty and did nothing but complain about breaking in the replacements for your unit. He speaks about you often, hoping that you're having a swell time kicking around London while the rest of F Company is working so hard. I'm sure you can imagine his words were far more colorful than I'm willing to impart in a letter._

 _This past Thursday the hospital broke from training long enough to enjoy Thanksgiving together. Everyone misses home though nobody is willing to say it. I think all of the hospital staff tries not to think about it, myself included. Sometimes I wonder what I'll do when all of this is over. It's hard to imagine returning home to a domestic life in Little Rock._

 _I miss you. When I'm away from the hospital, I find myself looking for you even though I know you're not here. There are days when the hospital leaves me exhausted and I want nothing more than to sit with you for a while, talking about anything except the war. Those are the moments when I can pretend that I'm anywhere but here. I do take comfort in knowing that you're safe in London, far away from the coming battle. Perhaps it's selfish for me to think that way, when so many other soldiers are preparing to march into certain bloodshed but I can't help it. You've seen more than your fair share of war in the short months since we left New York; I think the army can survive you sitting this one out._

 _Yours,_

 _Sadie_

Bucky brushed his thumb over Sadie's signature, set beneath her elegant handwriting. The tight cursive stretched across the page in straight lines, filling the front side of two pages. He wasn't even surprised to find that the creases where she'd folded the paper were perfect. Holding in a sigh, he scanned over her letter once more before returning the letter back to its envelope where his name was beautifully scrawled across the front dead center.

"Yours," he repeated to himself, sliding the letter into the inside pocket of his jacket. The letter was destined to join the four other letters he'd received from Sadie since he arrived in London. She always signed her name with the possessive, punching him in the gut every time he read it. As he pushed the letter into the pocket, it came to rest next to another letter. The envelope also contained two sheets of paper, covered front to back with his own musings. The draft took him two weeks to complete, an embarrassingly long time that he would never ever admit to another person as long as he lived. Yet, despite his struggles, the letter continued to reside in Bucky's jacket signed, addressed, and sealed but not sent.

Bucky had opened Sadie's most recent letter with trepidation. Would she express anger that she hadn't heard from him in over a month? Would she continue to falsely assume as she had been that his correspondence was simply lost in the army delivery system, doomed to reach her by the time he returned to Italy? His initial relief that she wasn't angry in print was short-lived, followed by an overwhelming amount of guilt. After all, he knew the truth. Bucky knew the reason why Sadie hadn't heard a peep from him in so long was because he hadn't drummed up the courage to actually send his letter.

He'd read his letter so many times he'd actually memorized the prose, betraying his complete and utter lack of a way with words. Bucky hung all of his hopes on the notion that Sadie would be charmed by his earnest sentences and find his blunt admissions endearing. Flowery language was for poets and singers, Bucky was not the type to use up ink waxing lyrical about her grey eyes and knockout smile. Yet somehow his blunt delivery made his letter all the more terrifying to send.

If Steve knew, he'd have a field day with it; he'd be even more amused than he already was over the saga of Bucky being in love for the first time. Bucky also knew that if Steve was aware that Bucky had been carrying a love letter around in his pocket he'd browbeat Bucky into sending the damn thing. Steve wouldn't understand Bucky's hesitance. Sending this letter meant something; it was a declaration and there was no going back from it.

"Sir?"

A voice above him startled Bucky. A waiter stood next to his table, an expression of mild impatience on his face. Bucky realized he'd been sitting at his tiny table for far too long and his coffee had gone stone cold next to the empty plate that once held his breakfast.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?"

The overly polite tone of the waiter's voice indicated that it was time for Bucky to free the table up for other paying customers. He shook his head. "No," he replied, still distracted by Sadie's letter. "Sorry."

Bucky fished a few coins out of his pocket, enough to cover the cost of his meal and left them on the table before getting to his feet. He awkwardly navigated his way through the tight maze of tables, bound for the door and the cold, rainy morning.

In her letter, Sadie asked about London and if it met all of her literary expectations. They'd never actually talked about the books they read or music they enjoyed. Bucky suspected that Sadie was well read and educated, but over the course of her letters she inadvertently revealed more than she probably intended. Sadie's writing itself was not only beautiful, but practiced and very proper. Bucky only ever saw cursive writing like hers in the letters his mother received and even then he knew none of his family members wrote the way she did. She was educated, in possession of a large vocabulary and in her letters she made passive mention of the books she read, the things she studied in school, and the society she'd left behind.

In the letter he received just before Thanksgiving, Sadie wrote at length about hearing from her mother and about the events she was missing in Little Rock. When he read, Bucky recalled that he'd never seen her wear anything other than a military issued uniform. He imagined that her closet at home contained dresses for a hundred different occasions, professionally tailored and made of fabric his mother and sister only dreamed about. If Sadie were home would she be at the mercy of her mother's social calendar? Would she spent her evenings being whisked from one engagement to another on the arm of a southern gentleman ten times richer than Bucky and certainly more genteel? The comparison left Bucky particularly dour and uncharacteristically anxious.

A part of him knew that Sadie loved him. Neither of them had dared to say the words yet but Bucky knew all the same. But although he walked around confident in this observation, Bucky started to torture himself with a new thought, one she casually mentioned in her most recent letter. What were they going to do when they got home? After all, the war wouldn't last forever. Sooner or later both he and Sadie would take a troopship back to the United States and it was anyone's guess what they would do. Bucky dreaded the thought of Sadie waltzing as easily out of his life as she had in, back to Little Rock, back to silk dresses and gin and moonlight strolls on country roads.

Bucky reached back into his pocket as he started the trek back to his hotel where he would meet with Dugan and Gabe, the three men destined for a briefing session with their new comrades in the SSR. He brushed his thumb over the corner of his letter. The words contained within expressed his anticipation for their first real date and the dates thereafter. He'd even foolishly suggested that he wanted to give Sadie a tour of Brooklyn when they got home, making light of the fact that she would love New York if she gave it a chance. Bucky wanted her to love New York, as though he genuinely expected that she would move there to be with him.

Yes, sending this letter sent a statement Bucky wasn't sure he wanted to make. At least, not without knowing Sadie was on the same page as him.

He entered the hotel lobby to find Gabe and Dugan already waiting on him.

"What the hell took you so long?" Dugan asked, clapping him roughly on the shoulder.

"Sorry, got caught up. Letter from home," he lied.

If either man caught the lie they said nothing. Bucky forced the thought of his letter from his mind for the time being. There was very little he could do about it at this point in time and worrying only made things worse. Besides, he had a job to do and it wasn't one he could perform while distracted.

No matter how much he missed Sadie Reid.

X X X

The coffee provided by the SSR turned out to be no better than the coffee Steve drank on the road with the USO. Slightly stale, the dark liquid came with its own particular tinny taste that Steve could only allay with too much milk and sugar. Learning to drink bad coffee, however, came with the job territory, though he noticed more of his English counterparts forsaking the beverage in favor of tea. He didn't know why the bad coffee bothered him so much except that from a young age Steve could remember the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the family apartment and always made him just a little bit homesick.

The reminder, in conjunction with the turn of the weather in London left Steve aching for Brooklyn. When he joined the army he thought being so far away from home wouldn't bother him. Without a family of his own he figured any place was as good as Brooklyn, but he'd been wrong. Steve missed the Christmas decorations and cheerful storefront windows, cobbled together for the benefit of the city's children even during the worst of the Depression. He missed the smell of fresh snow that cleared out the less savory scents and the way the city grew still and silent when the flakes started coming down. More than anything, he missed his parents and in lieu of them he missed sitting down to dinner with Bucky's family, his surrogate family in every respect.

A letter from Bucky's mother came to him only two days before where she expressed her joy and relief that her two boys wouldn't be alone on Christmas, and it rendered Steve teary-eyed for longer than he wanted to admit. Steve missed home - he longed for it, actually. But Mrs. Barnes was also right, at least he and Bucky wouldn't be alone and that was the next best thing to being at home.

"Captain Rogers?" Steve glanced up from his cup of coffee to find a young red headed woman standing behind him. She smiled politely and gestured to the counter where he stood. "I'm sorry, sir, but you're blocking the coffee?"

"I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed and nearly tripped over his feet to move out of the way for her. The girl's smile widened and she stepped up to the counter, taking a cup from the stack next to the coffee percolator.

"It's quite alright," the girl said, her English accent coming on strong. Steve's ear wasn't quite refined enough to tell the difference between dialects and even if he could he certainly wouldn't know where the girl was from. She was pleasant to listen to all the same. "I do that all the time, my mother always said my head would float off into the clouds if it weren't for the rest of me."

Steve bowed his head while he stirred his milk into his coffee. "Sounds a bit like me too," he replied. "Is you mother in London?"

"No, sir," she replied. Sadness tinged her smile and she shook her head. "She was hiding in the ground floor of her shop when the bomb hit. Not much to do when that happens."

The girl's perfectly frank assessment momentarily stunned him, though he wasn't completely surprised. The longer he stayed in London the more stories Steve heard like hers. It seemed that most of the people he met shared similar stories of loss and but the most fascinating thread wound through the stories was the sense of calm and determination of the tellers. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"You're very kind," she said before she left the counter and Steve to return to his duties.

The kitchen attached to a long arched hallway that opened into the main war room of the SSR. Even at seven-thirty in the morning the place was crammed with staffers relaying memoranda, decoding messages, moving pieces across table maps and more. At the center of it all he found Colonel Phillips deep in conversation with Agent Carter and Howard Stark. Steeling himself for the long, drawn-out discussions to come he approached the group.

"Good morning," he said, drawing their attention. He nodded once towards Colonel Phillips and Howard before offering a shy smile to Peggy. She gave a fleeting smile in return, but her focus remained entirely on the large map stretched across a work table. Laid over the map were surveillance photographs along with sheets of rosters, lists, numbers, and other things Steve couldn't read from a distance. "So, where are we?"

"Trying to figure out how to support this operation," said Peggy with a sigh. "Some of the locations you identified as harboring HYDRA bases and factories are quite isolated and not even you can lead a group of men into battle without a support staff behind you."

Steve glanced at the map. Numerous small red markers spread across the map, each one set in a particular location to mirror the map he'd seen in Dr. Zola's office. Each marker represented a target, one more HYDRA base to take out in the hopes of weakening Schmidt's considerable power. Steve knew next to nothing about the intricacies of European geography but he knew reaching some of the holdouts wouldn't be an easy task.

"Not to mention we've got to send you, your men, and your staff behind enemy lines to get there," said Colonel Phillips in a gruff voice. Though Steve knew that the colonel was undoubtedly on his side, he also knew that the sheer parameters of this task force made him nervous in more ways than one. Risking the lives of some of the Allied Force's most promising soldiers was a tough enough concept to handle, but asking even a small group of support staff to follow was another thing altogether. The Colonel hated putting lives on the line if he could help it.

"If we travel light we can carry most of the things we need," reasoned Steve. "Set up a small base camp at a safe distance and cover the remainder of the distance by foot."

"Perhaps," said Howard thoughtfully. "But K-rations and light tents won't do you much good without radio support or a rendezvous point if you're separated in action."

"And that's nothing to think of what might happen should one of you be wounded with no surgeon," added Peggy. She pursed her red lips together while she reviewed a list in her hands. "Plus it's not just the HYDRA bases the SSR is worried about. We're tasked not only with fighting HYDRA but assisting the Allied Forces in whatever way we can and that includes providing aide and relief to embattled units. You and your men can't be in more than one place at a time."

Steve crossed his arms over his broad chest. "What are you thinking?"

"A reserve of support staff," said Colonel Phillips. "Split into teams to help in places where you simply cannot go plus a small staff specifically designed to aid your men, to accompany you on as many missions as possible and to conduct aide missions of their own."

On its face, the proposition seemed reasonable. Steve wondered how it would work in reality, as so often these plans went awry. Then again, he was manning a small rag-tag team of the most rough and tumble guys the Allied Forces had to offer, so stranger things certainly happened. Rubbing his freshly shaven jaw he continued to examine the map, as though it might magically give him the answers he sought. "Who on the smaller team?"

Peggy rifled through the papers sitting on the table until she produced a clean white sheet covered in her painstakingly neat handwriting. "We've been discussing it and we all thought one surgeon, possibly one or two nurses, and a radioman. Possibly an interpreter depending on where you go."

"Nurses?" Steve echoed in surprise.

"Yes, Captain Rogers, nurses. After all there are many tasks that a surgeon is ill-equipped to perform. Unless you think a woman has no place aiding in the takedown of HYDRA?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Howard place a polite hand over his mouth to hide his smirk. Captain Phillips's face drew into an expression of long-suffering and he rolled his eyes. A beet red flush warmed the back of Steve's neck as he started tripping right over his words to dig himself out of the hole he'd unwittingly created for himself. "No, of-of course not Peg-Agent Carter. I just meant I didn't realize the team would be so well-rounded."

"Nice save," muttered Howard under his breath. Steve's fingers itched to hit the man up the back of his head but he tabled the impulse in favor of watching Peggy for an indication of her mood.

"Well, we only want the best to support you and your men," she said lightly - a little too breezily, actually.

"You have any names in mind?" Colonel Phillips asked abruptly.

At once Steve, Howard, and Peggy looked up. "Well, one name comes to mind," said Peggy, her brown eyes flickering to Steve and then to Howard. "Actually two or three names come to mind. Though I'm not sure if they can be convinced to leave their post."

A pretty face bloomed into Steve's mind. He knew without a doubt that Peggy referred to the same woman topping his admittedly short list. "Alright then, let's have the list and I'll see what we can do."

Unbidden to Steve, a rather impetuous smirk tugged at his lips. Bucky was either going to thank him or absolutely murder him. Steve, for one, couldn't wait to find out.

X X X

Sadie Reid used the broad side of her forearm to wipe the sweat pouring down her forehead. Careful not to smear blood on her skin, she kept her hands far away from her face. She hardly had time to watch two technicians carry away the litter bearing her latest patient, a man fortunate enough to suffer a simple gunshot wound straight through his shoulder. Never in her life did Sadie think she'd ever deem an in and out bullet hole a good injury, but she also never imagined she'd be up to her neck in the wounded while supporting a brand new infantry unit.

Upon leaving Azzano and arriving further down the western coast of Italy, the 80th field hospital and the 107th were unceremoniously ordered to join on the campaign that would take them back north, in the direction of Rome. What followed were some of the bloodiest days Sadie had seen during the war thus far, and that included storming the beach at Salerno. Sadie and the rest of the nursing staff worked round the clock with the bloodshed stopped and just when she thought she couldn't possibly be more exhausted, she reached a new level altogether.

During her precious off-shift hours, Sadie's body turned on autopilot, rolling through the basic motions of washing up, eating, and sleeping. She did her best to reserve all of her energy for her shifts when she was faced with a whole new set of soldiers, a mix of hardened and completely green men who presented entirely fresh challenges. In fact, the only time Sadie really expended any of her mental injury were the handful of nights she had enough time to write to Bucky. Never mind he hadn't written her a single letter in the weeks since his departure and she'd written him six. Although she'd done a perfectly excellent job of convincing herself that mail was moving slowly out of London, Sadie was starting to doubt this possibility with each passing day and no word from Bucky.

The lack of correspondence on his side set Sadie on edge. Surely if something bad happened to his convoy or transport to London she would have heard by now. Any vessel that carried Captain America would carry with it a large press following. Loathe as she was to even think it, Sadie was beginning to believe that the reason she hadn't received a letter from Bucky was because he hadn't actually written one yet. Evelyn did her best to allay these fears, but often her attempts fell flat. All-in-all, Sadie was glad to have the increasingly intense shifts at the field hospital to distract her from thinking about Bucky.

Though she was beginning to regret that relief when she tidied up one bed only to be accosted by a brand new stretcher. A large man writhed on the canvas, jerkily kicking his booted feet along the rough fabric. Judging by the way his back rose sharply every time one of the technicians jostled his stretcher, he was in immense pain. Sadie scowled but hurried forward, wiping her hands off on the rag hanging out of her apron.

Beneath her feet the ground rumbled. An almighty roar filled Sadie's ears, momentarily deafening her. Planes soared over the hospital, coming from the south which told Sadie they were allied machines. That fact alone wasn't enough to prevent the stumble of her heart, but she managed to push through it. Gritting her teeth, she forced the shouting out of her mind and dug deep into her lungs for the necessary volume.

"Hold him down!" She shouted at two technicians who were already throwing their body weight down onto the bull of a man she now set about treating. At her order the pair of technicians forced even more of their weight through their hands, pushing the soldier's shoulders down onto the already shaky table.

A stream of obscenities flowed out of the blonde man's mouth, half of it in a language Sadie couldn't identify and for that she was glad. Blood stained the right side of his shirt, high enough to cause concern as Sadie untied the bandage covering the wound over his shirt and grasped the edges of his shirt, ripping it open. Her charge squirmed as she pulled the fabric away from the bullet hole that immediately began to gurgle blood. Grimacing, Sadie crouched a little lower to get a good look at the wound, caked with sulfanilamide.

"Why didn't your medic give you morphine?" She asked more to herself than the patient but he heard her all the same.

"We're running low, it's a goddamn blood bath out there!" The soldier said through his clenched jaw.

Sadie didn't let him see her stony expression. "I've been hearing that a lot today, private," she said as she gently prodded the wound, hoping to get a better idea of how deep the bullet was lodged. "Private, you really need to relax."

" _Relax_? RELAX? You try relaxing when you've got a fucking bullet inside you, sweetheart! Where's the goddamn doctor?"

Sadie bristled at being called _sweetheart_ in such a condescending manner. "The doctors are all busy operating on critical patients. So looks like you're stuck with me, _sweetheart_ ," she snapped and set into action, grabbing a vial of local anesthetic and a syringe. "The bullet's in there deep and it's got to come out. I'm going to numb you up as best as I can."

The sheen of sweat glistened on his large forehead. He nodded, possibly realizing the error of his behavior. But the curses started right back up again when Sadie wiped the blood away from the wound before injecting him with anesthetic in three places around the wound. She was just about to start extracting the bullet when she was interrupted.

"Nurse Reid?" A rather official voice filled her ears.

"That's me, how can I help you?" She asked, not bothering to look up from her patient. The figure moved around to the other side of the stretcher and she briefly glanced up. A rather reedy-looking kid stood there, no older than nineteen and quite ashen. Carefully she pushed the tips of her forceps into the wound and bit back a curse when blood rushed to the surface, obscuring her vision. "Make yourself useful, grab a rag and wipe away the excess blood."

"Me?" The kid's panicky question came out an octave higher than the voice she'd just heard.

"Yes, you," she said with an air of long-suffering. "I can't see to get the bullet out and I'm not talking to anyone until I finish taking care of this man."

Looking quite stunned, the kid reached for a rag and began to gingerly dab the blood away. It was Sadie's turn to curse under her breath. "You're not taking care of your grandmother here. He's already numb, but I can't see a damn thing."

Once the runner actually managed to mop most of the blood away, Sadie was able to get a better grip on the situation. After a moment of gentle feeling, she closed the tips of her forceps over the bullet and gently withdrew it. "See? Who needs a doctor," she said to her patient, patting him once on the shoulder before preparing the needle and thread to sew him up.

The runner swayed uncertainly at the amount of blood on the rag. "He don't look so good, Nurse," said her patient, watching the runner with a mix of mild curiosity and actual amusement.

"Perhaps you'd like to wait outside? I'll be along as soon as I finish."

"But Captain Anderson," said the runner faintly.

"My duty to this hospital comes first. I don't think Captain Anderson is going to wilt away if I don't come running immediately," she said, leaving no room for debate. The runner placed a shaky hand over his stomach and disappeared from the tent. "Of all the ridiculous things," she muttered to herself as she continued to prepare to sew up her patient.

"Sounds like this isn't just about the kid or your C.O.," her patient remarked mildly as she pushed the needle into his wound, lining the sides up to remain even and pucker slightly at the seam.

Sadie pursed her lips together, wishing she hadn't let her temper get the better of her. "If it's not one thing it's another, private," she murmured.

"Don't I know it," he grumbled in reply, prompting her first and only smile of the day. Sadie worked swiftly and as soon as she applied a bandage and watched the technicians carry the man off to rest, she rinsed her hands off and left the First Ward Tent. The runner was still there, waiting just outside the entrance. Sadie untied the strings of her apron and draped it over the back of one of the only chairs outside the entrance.

The runner shot to his feet. "Second Lieutenant Reid? I'm to escort you to Battalion HQ to meet with Captain Anderson."

Sadie sighed. "I gathered as much. I take it I won't have time to freshen up?"

"It's urgent ma'am."

She bit back a groan of irritation. "Of course it is," she muttered under her breath and stopped a technician. "Find Nurse Evelyn Lewis and tell her I've been ordered to Battalion HQ, she'll know who to tell. Alright, let's go."

X X X

Battalion HQ was another twenty or so miles behind the 80th, set up in a tiny village outside of Naples that Sadie passed through in a convoy on the way to the front. The 80th field hospital took up one house where the commanding staff set up shop. Captain Anderson handled the day-to-day command of the hospital, overseeing that the ward tents remained staffed and prepared for any and all types of action. He was a tall, solid man in his early forties who had gone prematurely white but carried the color exceedingly well. His brown eyes were kind, as was the line of his mouth when he spoke. When Sadie entered the parlor that had been turned into his temporary office he stood at attention.

Sadie hated the formalities of the chain of command and hoped that Captain Anderson wasn't offended that she'd kept him waiting. Fortunately he said nothing of the sort and as he ordered her to stand at ease he gave her a gentle smile.

"Please, take a seat Nurse Reid." He gestured to the chair in front of the table he used as a desk. Sadie sank down into the chair and it was then that she noticed the other person in the room. Captain Anderson followed the line of her eyes but made no immediate move to introduce the young man. "I've been reading through the reports that the doctors and commanding staff have submitted concerning the 80th Field Hospital's journey from Sicily to Azzano and back," he said conversationally, gaze falling on the thick stack of papers. "I think I can confidently say that I'm commanding perhaps the best field hospital in the whole Army and that is, in large part, thanks to the outstanding nursing staff the hospital has put together. I've been reading the accounts of nurses who go above and beyond their basic duties, who have learned additional skills not expected of them, who always take the extra minute to connect with their patients. You belong to a group of women who ran into danger when the 80th was being bombed and endured the night even though you knew that you were risking your own life. As I was reading one name came up again and again, far more than any other nurse in the 80th. Can you guess whose name it was?"

Sadie couldn't have even answered if she wanted to. She started to open her mouth but her voice refused to rise out of her lungs. Captain Anderson gave her another warm smile.

"it's yours, Nurse Reid. I'm more than impressed by all of the things your superiors have to say about you and it turns out I'm not the only one." The other man in the room stood, strong and strapping. Sadie's mouth fell open when she recognized the SSR insignia on his collar. "Nurse Reid this is Agent Felix Caraway with the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Colonel Phillips, the SSR's commanding officer, has personally sent Agent Caraway to meet with you."

Sadie rose to her feet and moved to salute. Agent Caraway returned the gesture and then held his hand out, which Sadie shook. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Nurse Reid. Colonel Phillips has asked me to deliver this to you by hand."

He produced a long, official envelope bearing her name. Sadie took it and wasted no time opening the letter. As she started to devour the contents her face grew more and more slack. The offer was something she never expected. The SSR was asking her to join their ranks, to be a part of a team to support the Allied Force's most elite, to support Captain America himself on his future missions, to perform independent aide work outside of his unit. She was speaking before she even comprehended that she was.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted," said Captain Anderson, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

"Is this a joke?"

Captain Anderson laughed in earnest now and he got to his feet. "It's not a joke, Nurse Reid. Believe me, I wish it were."

"Who-who else does the SSR have lined up for this team?" She asked.

"Nurse Evelyn Lewis and Doctor Ian Holmes, two other staff members I'm going to hate losing."

Sadie looked back down at the letter, signed by Colonel Phillips himself with the official seal of the SSR next to his signature. It was so official and so very tempting. But could she leave the 80th Field Hospital? Was she really ready to give up on the men of the 107th? She could, she reasoned. There were enough seasoned nurses to more than handle the chaos of battle. Independent aide missions carried the promise of new action, of aiding men who couldn't be reached by traditional field hospitals. Not to mention she could help out in the fight against HYDRA, against the bastards who killed over half of the 107th and held Bucky hostage for three weeks.

 _Bucky_. Her heart leapt into her throat. Was this connected to Bucky? If she joined would she see him again? But no, she warned herself. That couldn't be her reason for doing any of this, for saying yes. She was more than that, better than making her decisions based off a man. Especially a man who hadn't written to her since he left for London over a month and a half ago.

"It's a hell of an offer, Nurse Reid," said Captain Anderson, interrupting her reverie. "You'd be a fool to turn it down."

Yes, she would. "But Sir, the 80th," she started to say and he waved her off.

"The 80th will continue to truck along even without you. I don't want to see you go but your talents could be put to so much better use with the SSR."

Sadie swallowed hard and she nodded. Turning her attention back to Agent Caraway she jutted her chin up, trying to look more confident in her decision than she felt. "When do we leave, Agent?"

X X X

A persistent state of fog and gloom hung over London. For days on end the grey clouds obscured the blue sky, casting dull shadows on the sidewalks and dampening any Christmas cheer that sprouted up in shop windows. With the clouds came a wet sort of chill that Bucky couldn't shake no matter how many layers he donned. The miserable weather mirrored Bucky's miserable spirits.

On a particularly chilly evening - the night before Christmas Eve - he found himself sitting at the bar in the pub staring into the bottom of his lowball glass. Bucky wasn't sure how long ago the bartender poured his scotch but he had yet to take a sip. Not even liquor could cure his blues. In fact, Bucky was positive that he was one or two stiff scotches away from taking up residence at the piano and singing out his blues, a fate he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. He sighed and rotated the glass in his hands.

Deep down Bucky knew he was being ridiculous and petulant and downright cowardly. He'd endured bombings, stormed beaches, and survived three weeks as a prisoner of war; he was as hardened as any soldier out there and never once broke under the pressure. Bucky fearlessly led men into battle but when faced with the prospect of mailing a simple letter to Sadie Reid his courage failed him every single time. This laughable failure alone might not have dampened Bucky's spirits, but combined with the fact that he was away from his family for the first time in his life, it made for a rather dour Christmas.

His only saving grace was Steve's unflappable optimism and he was further saved from his misery when Steve sat down on the bar stool next to his. "Do you remember that Christmas when we were ten and instead of snow it rained for a week straight? Overnight it froze and Rebecca broke her arm when she fell trying to chase us down the street?"

"Yeah, my mom yelled at us for about ten straight minutes. What about it?" Bucky asked, wondering where Steve was going with his rather blunt greeting.

Steve shrugged out of his coat and raked his fingers through his blonde hair. "I thought that was going to be the coldest Christmas we'd ever have. Turns out I was wrong."

A dry chuckle escaped Bucky's throat and he nodded. "At least that was a good Christmas. We went ice skating every day before school started back up."

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky caught Steve's grin and almost smiled with him. But even talking about a Christmas that happened sixteen years before reminded him of everything he'd be missing. By now Rebecca would have decorated the entire family apartment, along with a tree covered in cranberry and popcorn strings along with homemade ornaments and tinsel. His mother would cook the finest meal of the year before signing carols with the church choir, and his father would take great delight in carving the Christmas ham. If it snowed over Christmas, Bucky would meet Steve and the other neighborhood kids for snowball fights before spending the evening with hot cocoa while listening to the radio. Christmas didn't feel like Christmas now that he wasn't home.

"What's got you so down?" Steve asked, interrupting Bucky's reverie.

Bucky continued to stare into the bottom of his lowball, right through the amber scotch he took neat. "You mean aside from spending Christmas here?"

Steve raised his eyebrows sympathetically. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I just thought maybe something else was bothering you. Maybe someone? With brown hair and grey eyes? Who happens to be a nurse?"

"Don't start that up again," said Bucky defensively. Steve fixed him with the kind of expression he'd expect from his mother, knowing and just a little sarcastic. That was the trouble with being around someone who knew him so well, Steve could see right through his bullshit. "But now that you mention it, she might have something to do with it."

Sliding his hand inside his jacket he produced the letter to Sadie. Steve's frown deepened.

"Are you kidding me? You still haven't sent that?" He asked, taking the letter from Bucky's hands. Already stamped and addressed, the envelope was beginning to show the signs of wear and tear. The corners were slightly frayed and curling up. Bucky nodded, scowling deeply. "So," Steve started to say but Bucky cut him off.

"Why haven't I mailed it? That's a great question." At long last, the burning need to dull the sharp edges of his bad mood won out. He drank half of his scotch in one large mouthful, wincing as the liquid burned down his throat. "I wish I had a good answer."

"This isn't about how you two left things, is it? Because I thought she made it clear where she stood."

Bucky scowled. He thought about the folded piece of paper sitting on the bedside table in his room. Yes, Sadie giving him the same apology note he'd written to her was as much of a declaration of love as she could have given him in the moment. The letters she'd sent to him since then made her position on their relationship even more clear.

"It's not that," he muttered and drained his glass. Steve caught the bartender's attention and motioned for two more.

"So what is it? You're not having second thoughts are you? I thought you were head over heels for this girl."

Second thoughts? Bucky nearly laughed. A horrid part of him wished he was having second thoughts, because at least then he would have a better reason. There was no such thing as second thoughts when it came to Sadie; Bucky fell for her and hadn't looked back. Moreover, he didn't want to look back.

"No," he replied with a note of sourness. Steve sat in silence, watching and waiting. Bucky bristled at the irritating tactic, one he knew all too well from his friend. Sighing, he scrubbed his rather scruffy face with his hands. "What if she changes her mind?"

The door at the front of the pub opened and Bucky watched Dugan, Gabe, Dernier, and Morita spill through the door. The quartet chortled merrily at what Bucky imagined was some off-color joke of Dugan's. When Steve didn't immediately answer, Bucky considered getting up and leaving the bar to join his friends.

"About you?" Steve broke the silence.

Bucky swallowed the biting retort he desperately wanted to give. "Yes, about me. What if while I'm away she realizes that she can do better?"

"Why on earth would she do that?" Bucky knew better than to have this conversation with Steve, the one person on the planet who refused to see him as anything other than a great guy and the best friend imaginable.

"Yeah but we're in the middle of a war, Steve. How do you think she's going to feel when we're back home? Sadie's from money, she grew up with nice things and around people with nice manners who can give her everything and more. What's she gonna say when she sees how we grew up or when she realizes that I don't have a career or family money? It all seems perfect now but what if she changes her mind when we're home?"

"Wow," said Steve in a low voice. "You really do love her, don't you?"

The bartender set two fresh drinks in front of them. Bucky absently sipped his scotch, making a face. "I really do."

Steve slid the letter back to Bucky before he clapped him on the shoulder. "Then you have to trust Sadie. After everything you've been through and everything you know about her, don't you think you should let her decide what she wants for herself?" He signaled the bartender for another drink. "I do know one thing though - the longer you wait to send that letter, the less likely she is to forgive you."

Truer words had never been spoken. "Don't remind me."

Over Bucky's shoulder, Steve watched the door open and a group entered the pub. His face split into a wide smile. "On the bright side, you won't have to wait all that long to apologize."

"What? Why?" Steve tipped his head in the general direction of the door. Rotating in his seat, Bucky followed his friend's line of sight. It was a good thing he'd already let go of his glass, otherwise he would have dropped it on the wood floor. Bucky's mouth fell open in surprise while his stomach dropped out of his body. Sadie Reid looked fresh and gorgeous on the arm of Howard Stark as she entered the pub.

Bucky's mind went completely blank for a spare second as he watched her turn to smile over her shoulder at Evelyn Lewis and Peggy Carter. Half of her dark hair was pulled away from her face, leaving the rest to spill onto her shoulders in soft curls. His blue eyes regrettably left her face to drop down the length of her body and his mouth went dry. A navy blue dress hugged her narrow curves, highlighting her small waist and long legs. Bucky realized with a jolt that he'd never seen Sadie wear anything but a uniform and it had been so long since he'd seen her done up that he'd forgotten how she could kick his heart into a gallop with just the simplest smile.

Sadie was supposed to be in Italy. She was supposed to be with the 80th Field Hospital, saving lives and wearing a men's uniform. She was not supposed to be in foggy London wearing a dress that knocked his socks off. It wasn't until Steve clapped him on the shoulder that Bucky realize the man was laughing.

"Steve, what the hell did you do?" Bucky accused, implicitly knowing his friend had something to do with Sadie. Across the bar her grey eyes found his and his heart jumped into his throat.

"Merry Christmas, Buck," said Steve, rising to his feet to go and greet the newcomers. "Don't say I never got you anything."

X X X

Sadie was absolutely certain that if she looked up the word 'uncomfortable' in the dictionary it would include a description of her current predicament. The warm, smoky air in the pub weighed heavily on her narrow shoulders as she sat between Evelyn and Gabe Jones. Sergeant Dugan and Captain Rogers led the merrymaking, pushing a trio of tables together to accommodate the large gathering in the back room of the pub. Rounds of drinks came and although she managed to enjoy reuniting with friends and partaking in the revelry, she remained painfully aware of Bucky's eyes on her the entire time.

Evelyn talked Sadie into coming to the pub, telling her it would be easier to see Bucky for the first time with a large group. That way there were plenty of people to keep her entertained if he indeed didn't want to talk to her. She hadn't taken into account Dugan's bone-crushing hug of greeting or the way Bucky's mouth dropped in open disappointment when she entered the bar on Howard Stark's arm. Sadie had also forgotten how handsome Bucky was during their time apart. Though how she could have forgotten the precise shade of his piercing blue eyes or the way his hair swept away from his forehead in a perfectly rakish manner, Sadie would never know. She silently marveled at his broad shoulders and obnoxiously attractive brooding posture as he watched her from across the tables.

Sadie also assumed that no matter how his feelings might have changed, Bucky would at least say hello to her. But she'd been wrong about that too, further wounding her already damaged pride. More than once over the course of her first drink, Sadie forcibly reminded herself that she hadn't joined the SSR to be with Bucky. But the prospect of travelling all over Europe to aid the Allied Forces, of supporting Captain Rogers, and learning all manner of new medical techniques was infinitely more appealing when she thought Bucky still loved her. Dugan and Gabe Jones unknowingly jointed Evelyn on her quest to keep Sadie entertained and she managed to ignore Bucky for the most part, instead letting her friends regale her with their misadventures in London.

Dugan especially took up the mantle of entertainer, a role he naturally fit into. He had Sadie and Evelyn in stitches as he told them about earning the ire of a particularly stuffy shop owner when he came in puffing away at his cigar.

"Then, if you can believe it, the old broad starts chasing Gabe and me out with a broom! Damned if I know what she was shouting but it wasn't good, I'll tell you that. I thought she was going to poke us out of the door with the handle!"

"Well you probably shouldn't have asked her for directions to the palace so you could have tea with the queen," said Evelyn reasonably before she dissolved into a fresh fit of giggles.

Sadie rested her chin in her hand. "I'd have murdered you if you were knocking cigar ash all over my nice merchandise too! Good thing it wasn't my mother, she'd have chased you out with a cast iron skillet."

Dugan bellowed out fresh laughter, his eyes twinkling. "I wasn't getting ash anywhere, Nurse Reid! I happen to be a very polite smoker, thank you very much."

Her wicked grin widened. "You are, are you? Perhaps I should get you an ivory cigarette holder for Christmas, like the ones the elegant socialites use in clubs."

Dugan snorted and pointed a teasing finger in her direction. "Aren't you supposed to be an elegant socialite?"

She bumped her shoulder with Evelyn's and the girls shared a conspiratorial smile. "I'm pretty sure our elegance stayed on the docks when we boarded the _Queen Victoria_ ," pronounced Evelyn over Sadie's shoulder.

"Absolutely! A socialite would never do something so undignified as sleeping in ship quarters that didn't include a sundeck! Or sleep in holes in the ground," teased Sadie, putting her southern accent on thick.

"The shock!" Evelyn cried, pretending to swoon on her shoulder.

"The horror! If only I had a strand of pearls to clutch!" Sadie exclaimed.

Inadvertently, she glanced across the table and found Bucky staring at her. He leaned back in his chair, his undrunk scotch perched between his hands. Sadie desperately wished she could read his mind. Why hadn't he greeted her? Had he really changed his mind about their romance and if so, why was he still watching her so intently? Sadie planned to explain everything to him when they reunited. She was going to tell him all about the SSR's offer, that she made her decision based on all matter of factors but that she'd certainly considered him in her thoughts. She broke her eyes away from him and tried to immerse herself in the conversation a while longer, but to no avail. At last she'd had enough and leaned over to Evelyn.

"I'm going to head back to the hotel."

Immediately Evelyn's face fell; she didn't want to leave. "Alright, I'll go with you."

Sadie shook her head. "No, stay! The hotel is just around the block, I'll be fine walking on my own."

She made to stand and at the same time as Howard, who lounged on Evelyn's other side. "I'll walk you back, Nurse Reid," he started to say when another man shot to his feet.

"I will. I was planning to head back anyway."

Bucky stood ramrod straight. Sadie gaped at him in disbelief. Awkward silence settled over the table as every person sitting watched the comedy of errors unfold between Bucky, Howard, and Sadie. She silently prayed to God that the floor would just open up and swallow her whole, saving her the trouble of navigating the murky waters. On the one hand she had Howard, a very affable and very platonic friend, offering what she was sure would be a very pleasant walk back. And then there was Bucky, who was now jockeying to be alone with her after weeks of zero correspondence and infuriating silence.

Howard ended up making the decision easy for her. "Well, in that case, I think I'll stay for another drink."

The thoroughly amused tone of Howard's voice alerted Sadie that he was in on the whole fiasco. Her fingers itched to smack the smirk right off his face but she quelled the urge. Slowly Howard sat in his seat and a furious, burning flush flooded Sadie's cheeks. She pointedly refused to look at her friends lest she see Evelyn and Dugan stifling their laughter or Peggy rolling her eyes in open sympathy. Instead she turned away to push her chair out and she left Bucky behind as he tried to untangle himself from his spot. Shaking her head in open exasperation, she stopped in the doorway long enough to take the coat she'd borrowed from Peggy off the rack.

"Sadie, wait!" Bucky's voice followed her through the door into the entryway where she shoved her hands through the sleeves and settled the coat on her shoulders.

"Unbelievable!" She snapped as she threw the main door open and burst into the cold night. The air felt wonderful on her hot cheeks. "You're absolutely unbelievable! Could you have been more obvious?"

A hand closed over her wrist and Bucky gently tugged, bringing her to a halt before she could march off into the night. He swung his body around to face hers, jacket half on and panic etched onto his face.

"I'm sorry! How else was I supposed to get a minute alone with you?"

"Oh I don't know! Maybe if you'd said hello when I walked in the door you could have asked me for a moment like any other normal person would have!" She was on the verge of shouting. Sadie hated shouting but her anger and annoyance were getting the better of her.

"I wanted to," he pleaded. "But I was surprised to see you and everyone else was there. I couldn't exactly walk up to you and greet you the way I wanted to, could I?"

"The way you wanted to? What is that supposed to mean?" Sadie asked. Bucky answered her by stooping down to take her hands. He moved in to kiss her and she stepped back, slack-jawed. "Are you serious? It's been over a month, Bucky. I've sent you two letters a week since you left and I haven't heard a peep from you! I thought something awful happened to you! I thought your transport had been attacked or you'd been bombed in London. And then when weeks went by and I didn't hear from you and you didn't come back I started to think, maybe you'd just changed your mind! But instead you're trying to kiss me?"

Bucky buried his face in his hands to muffle his groan. Sadie crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her breath coming out in visible puffs while she waited for him to string a coherent sentence together. She wasn't sure she'd ever been this angry with a man before, certainly never one she'd been romantically interested in. She'd never cared enough to be this angry. "I know, I know, Sade. And I am so sorry I didn't send you even one letter. I wrote you but every time I went to send it I just couldn't."

"You couldn't," she repeated in a deadpan tone. "As in all outgoing mail from London was halted? As in you didn't know where to address the letter?"

He bit his lower lip and ducked his head to avoid her gaze. Sadie's heart stumbled over a beat; arguing with Bucky would be infinitely easier if he weren't so attractive. She forced herself to ignore how close they stood and how cold she was. It would be too easy to bury herself in his arms. Bucky reached into his jacket and produced a long, well-worn envelope, bulging slightly from its contents. Sadie could see her name written across the front in his sloped handwriting. "Every time I started to send it I just couldn't. I knew once I sent it I couldn't take any of it back and I thought that if you hadn't already changed your mind about me then it was only a matter of time until you did. I guess I was just scared."

Bucky's confession was just about the last thing she expected. Tentatively, she reached out and prized the letter from his hand. Bucky released the letter and she turned it over in her hands before raising her eyes back to his. "May I?"

Bucky swallowed hard but he nodded. Sadie slipped her finger under the flap and tore it open. He'd written her more than a letter; it was practically a novella. Under the orange glow of the street lamps, she devoured his one and only letter. Bucky wasn't a particularly eloquent writer, though Sadie never expected him to be. But what he lacked in a certain genteel quality he more than made up for it in the sincerity of his words. Over the course of the multiple pages, Bucky expressed more than just a passing attraction or short-term interest. He talked about the people he wanted her to meet, the place he wanted to take her, and about the future. As she read, Sadie stepped into Bucky's mind, seeing how he saw her, how much he wanted this to work.

She reached the end and looked up at him. He'd shoved his hands in his coat pockets, looking smaller than she'd ever seen him. "After I finished that and I got your first two letters I realized that we're so different, Sade. I felt so stupid, talking about taking you around Brooklyn. I don't have two nickels to rub together and you're from society and you have money and I can't give you the things that some southern gentleman can give you."

So there was the rub, she thought somewhat incredulously. Sadie folded the letter, shaking her head as she did. "You're an idiot, James Barnes."

X X X

Bucky took the letter back, watching Sadie warily.

"Tell me something I don't know," he said, pained. But Sadie was smiling when she filled one of his hands with hers. A flicker of hope burned a little brighter in his chest. "Are you angry?"

"Absolutely," she said, unblinking. Bucky's heart fell. "And you owe me many, many apologies but I think I need to clear the air on one matter. I am only going to make this speech once so you'd best listen hard. Yes, I grew up in a nice house, with nice things and money to spare. And yes, I spent most of my life being dragged from one social event to another. But I wasn't ever swayed with the promise of a comfortable life with the nicest things money could buy and never will be. My parents taught me that a man's worth doesn't boil down to what's in his bank account or perfect manners. Where I come from women don't work. Any man I met would try to change me and force me into a beautiful house that would be nothing more than a white-picket prison with rules about how fast I could run or how high I could fly. Trust me when I tell you that I was suffocating in Little Rock society, that I have no plans to go back, and will never regret walking away from it."

Sadie touched the side of his face, her gentle fingertips brushing over the stubble Bucky wished he'd thought to shave that morning. "Bucky, you possess many attractive qualities but what drew me to you the most is your goodness and loyalty. Anybody can learn good manners but there are ineffable qualities that can't be learned. Everything that makes you so wonderful and undeniable is inherent in you and made all the better by living a life so radically different from those stuffy, silver-spoon fed gentlemen. I'd choose you over any of them every time."

Bucky was silent when she finished, soaking up the gravity of her words. A rather funny, stupid feeling seeped into his bones leaving him feeling slightly wobbly. Sadie watched him warily, with bated breath as though she thought her speech had gone too far. She squared her shoulders and seemed to brace herself for his imminent rejection, to hear him tell her that she'd come on too strong and he wasn't ready for that kind of talk. But that was the last possible thing on Bucky's mind. He tightened his grip on her hands and raised his chin so he could look directly at her.

"I love you." Sadie's jaw dropped and Bucky gave her a small, encouraging smile. "Maybe it's too early for me to be saying that but if there's anything I've learned from all of this it's that if you have something important to say then you should go ahead and say it. I'm not expecting you to say it back but I just, I couldn't wait. I'm in love with you."

Silently she rose to the tips of her toes and kissed him softly. "I'm in love with you, too."

Reflex kicked in and Bucky swept her into a tight embrace. Laughter escaped her lungs as Bucky lifted her up, spinning her in a tight circle. "I really am sorry for not mailing that letter. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

Sadie looped her arm through his when he set her back down. Bucky thought his heart might explode in his chest. "You can start by promising that you'll never do that again."

Everything was suddenly ten times funnier and more wonderful. Bucky laughed and nodded, taking her hand and pulling her as close to him as he could. They began to walk towards the hotel where the SSR staff were staying. "I swear," he agreed solemnly. "Now, how about you tell me how you ended up here of all places?"

"It's a bit of a long story," said Sadie when they stopped on a street corner, waiting for traffic to pass. Bucky tucked a loose curl behind her ear and this time when he leaned down to kiss Sadie, she responded enthusiastically.

"I've got nothing but time, Sade," he muttered and kissed her again.

 **A/N: They're so cute sometimes that even I can't handle it. Next chapter features more SSR and quite possibly characters jumping out of planes! After next chapter I'll finally get to dig into the heart of the Howling Commandos storyline, which I am very much looking forward to!**

 **I would love, love, love to know what you thought! Much love – Kappa.**


	20. Childhood Tales and Instant Coffee

**A/N: This chapter was very nearly the death of this story. It took a while to write and even then I'm not totally satisfied with the end result, this chapter involves more setup than I'd planned. ALSO, I think I should point out that I am now diverging sharply from the history of the actual war and into Marvel-land. So, despite my best researching efforts, I'm flying a little blind on how some of this might normally be executed so if there are any glaring inaccuracies from a tactical standpoint, please cut a girl some slack! As always, however, I do my best to make sure all the small details are historically accurate!**

 **In the meantime THANK YOU times like…a billion…for all of the review, favorites, and follows. Even when I get frustrated with the process, I've never enjoyed writing a character as much as I enjoy writing Sadie and knowing that readers connect with her makes it that much better for me. Extra love to my phenomenal beta Stencil Your Heart and to Mopargirl1 who has endured more than one frustrated, ranting e-mail as a result of this chapter.**

 **Also – I keep getting questions about whether I'm going on after the events of TFA. I think I've mentioned previously that I do intend to write a sequel to this story. It's all in the planning stages, so even if I wanted to spill details there's not much to tell at this point! Just know that even know as I write these chapters of Songbirds, I'm laying the foundation for a sequel.**

 **The usual language and violence warnings apply.**

 **Disclaimer – We all know I don't own** _ **Cap**_ **.**

 **Chapter 20 – Childhood Tales and Instant Coffee**

A thick line of black paint ringed the inside of the bathtub in the suite Sadie shared with Evelyn. The heavy marking ruined the otherwise perfectly lovely and serviceable tub, creating an ugly contrast with the ivory porcelain and brass fixtures. The tub sat along one wall of the tiny bathroom, across the way from the small column sink. Sadie scowled every time she saw the paint line, the bottom of which was set precisely five inches above the bottom of the tub. Rationing had become a daily facet of life and for the most part Sadie went on without complaint, except when it came to bathwater.

"Five inches, I'll be so glad when this ridiculous war is over," she muttered to herself as she laid a bath towel on the back edge of the tub and laid another across the floor in front of it. Nothing appealed more to Sadie than the prospect of soaking in a hot bath after her long day. She wanted to sink into the heat, letting the water loosen her sore muscles and relax the knots in her shoulders. Instead, she found herself faced with the prospect of yet another unsatisfying experience. Bathing for the sake of cleanliness was fine, but not when she was black and blue all over.

Sadie hissed as she raised her arms above her head to pull the pins from her hair. Both of her shoulders ached and stretched painfully with each small movement she made. Before joining the SSR she thought she was in fine shape but three weeks of hard training proved her wrong. Extensive physical training, field exercises in full gear, hand-to-hand combat, shooting lessons, and more took a toll on Sadie's body that she couldn't help but notice every time she glanced in a mirror or so much as moved an inch. Her fingers were tender and swollen from spending the afternoon learning new stitching techniques and using precise tools for better shrapnel and debris extraction. Even simple tasks such as taking her hair down took longer than usual as her fingertips slipped and fumbled over the pins.

At long last, her hair unfurled from its no-nonsense chignon and spilled down her shoulder in ungainly curls. Sadie's hands shook while she gripped her hairbrush and smoothed her curls, which fell well past her collar bones. She tilted her head to the side, staring at her reflection in surprise. These days her hair was so seldom let loose that she'd forgotten how long it had grown, possibly the longest it had ever been. Sadie liked the way the longer, looser curls framed her face, softening her features.

The buttons of her white hospital uniform were similarly difficult but at last she dropped the dress over the back of a chair outside of the bathroom, followed by the rest of her clothing. One of the few perks of staying in SSR housing was the army's insistence that its finest be accorded some luxuries and as a result, warm air wrapped around her naked body. Sadie swept her long hair over her shoulders and retreated to the bathroom and turned on the water, running it until steaming hot water poured into the tub. Once the waterline reached the paint in the tub, she turned off the tap and returned to the mirror while she let the water cool enough to step in.

An ugly purple and grey bruise marred the joint at her right shoulder, the product of rifle lessons with Peggy and the endless targets she made her pupils shoot. Even after she managed to master the correct positioning, the kickback from each shot still drove the rifle hard into the joint, exacerbating the already sensitive spot. Evelyn sported a similar bruise along with a nasty cut on one hand from a mishap during the day they learned to take apart, clean, and reassemble pistols. Two more bruises discolored the left side of Sadie's ribcage and upper thigh, gifts from hand-to-hand training under Peggy's usually watchful eye. The calluses on Sadie's hands were more pronounced than ever.

A dispassionate sigh escaped her lips. Before the war she'd possessed the soft, smooth curves that movie stars flaunted on screen along with an hourglass figure. Now, as she ran her hands over her torso, her fingers bumped over her gently protruding hipbones and there was no hourglass left so to speak. The soft swell of her small breasts rounded up to her collar and her eyes settled onto her face. The toll of the war was never more apparent than when Sadie looked at her face without makeup. Although her grey eyes and full lips remained familiar, Sadie barely recognized the pale, hollow-cheeked woman staring back at her.

Turning away from the mirror, Sadie stepped gingerly into the steaming bath water and sat down, watching as her frame displaced the water just enough that it was useable. Sinking down into the tub as far as she could go, she tried to submerse as much of her body as possible, but immediately sat back up when the hard porcelain pushed against her aching back. Sighing, she reached for her washcloth and soaked it, placing the hot cloth against her shoulders followed by another. Temporary relief flooded her muscles but the stiffness returned when she began to wash the day's grime off her body.

Rivulets of water ran down her arms, sliding over the defined muscle and sloshed over her legs where she could see the results of months of relentless work in the field and weeks of hard training. When Peggy warned Sadie and Evelyn that training for this post would make boot camp look like a vacation, she hadn't been joking. Muscles she didn't even know she had ached from use.

Unfortunately there would be no respite from the action. Tomorrow morning Sadie and Evelyn, along with the rest of their small aide team, would board a C-47 with Captain Rogers' unit for the long flight from the airfield in Ipswich to Kiev. A map on the dresser was clearly marked with the main route the small company was to take from Kiev across the border into Poland and behind enemy lines. The route, marked in red on Sadie's map, had been the greatest source of debate, agony, and frustration with the SSR for the better part of February. The sheer volume of unknown variables that awaited the group was nearly insurmountable in comparison to the actual mission at hand: to destroy a railway bridge and storage facility that connected two of the known HYDRA facilities in Eastern Europe.

The mission was designed to be a test of not only Captain Rogers' crew but also the support crew that travelled with them. Although nobody dared deny that the members of the six-man support staff had seen their fair share of battle, the worry that these types of covert missions would be too much for them still lingered. At the same time there was just no getting around the fact that, regardless of how good Captain Rogers and his men were, they needed support. As a result, Sadie felt as though she'd been placed under a microscope from the very second training for this mission began.

Sadie rubbed a bar of soap within her washcloth, producing a thick lather that she proceeded to scrub along her arms. This would be her last bath for who-knew-how-long. She tried not to dwell on that or the fear that had taken root in her stomach several days earlier. Following the front line in a hospital had already nearly gotten Sadie killed. How much more danger was she inviting by moving behind enemy lines, even if she was in the company of the Allied's best?

To combat the danger she, along with everyone else on the support staff, had been given the best of everything the Army and Howard Stark had to offer. Sometime in January Howard whisked Sadie and Evelyn away to what he called a business dinner and spent the entire evening asking questions and taking notes about their standard field uniforms, kits, gear, and all of the issues that went with life as a woman in the field. At once Sadie appreciated Howard's impeccable attention to detail and his willingness to be unblushing at the unique challenges women faced that he would never endure. While some members of the SSR raised eyebrows at the notion of nurses going on aid missions and supporting Captain Rogers' team, Howard didn't bat an eyelash. Sadie appreciated his progressive attitude and was even more appreciative when he presented her with a uniform and gear that were tailored specifically to not only keep her safe in the field, but also to allow her to be efficient and effective at her job. Howard was up until the early hours of the morning with both Sadie and Evelyn, teaching them about every little detail of their field gear until he was absolutely satisfied that he'd left no stone unturned.

Thinking about everything she had to take with her drew Sadie's mind to the mental checklist she'd organized. While she rang the water out of her washcloth to stream down her back, she ran through the list. Sadie knew she was as ready as she would ever be, but that wouldn't stop her from being doubly and triply sure. There would be no going back if she forgot something.

The door to their room opened and Evelyn's voice drifted through the cracked bathroom door. "Sadie? Are you here?"

"In the bath!"

Seconds later Evelyn's face appeared in the doorway. Sadie looked over her shoulder at her friend. "I just saw Peggy on the way back from the hospital. She asked me to tell you that she couldn't make it for drinks with you and Bucky and Captain Rogers. Something about a last minute intel briefing?"

Sadie scowled. "That's too bad, I know Steve was really looking forward to it."

Evelyn snorted in laughter and drifted back into the main room, leaving the door wide open. "I'm sure he was. I guess it's up to you to keep the good Captain and Bucky entertained all on your own."

The mention of Bucky's name dredged up fresh concerns. Those concerns plagued Sadie while she finished her bath and rose from the tub, hastily drying herself off. Sadie was positive that even though her body was under constant assault from training and she was about to embark on an incredibly dangerous mission, she'd never been so happy. Much of that happiness she owed to Bucky. Their relationship, thought not technically sanctioned by the Army, had been quietly accepted by all involved and only mentioned once by Colonel Phillips, who warned both of them in the sternest possible terms that duty came first. This didn't bother Sadie in the slightest; she'd grown accustomed to watching Bucky march off to the front lines and to living with the constant possibility that he might not come back. The fear she carried grew now that they were together but she still kept it at bay because she knew he was more than capable of keeping himself alive; he'd already done it for three weeks under unimaginable circumstances.

Bucky seemed perfectly content and as focused as Sadie. Whether in the company of friends or the previous moments they were miraculously alone, they spent as much time together as they could. Sadie got to know Steve Rogers and, much to Bucky's dismay, the pair enjoyed ganging up on him whenever they could. Bucky took great delight in stealing her away to any quiet corner they could find where he would kiss her until she forgot her own name. The only times he betrayed his own concerns for her life and safety came when he started offering her advice on all topics ranging from shooting a pistol to how to pack her gear. Sadie found herself gently reminding Bucky that not only had she been trained by the very best, but she also had six and a half months of field experience to back it up.

Tonight she was supposed to go on a not very subtle double date with Bucky, Steve, and Peggy. While Sadie and Bucky were both invested in getting Steve to grow a backbone, she also hoped that the exercise would allow Bucky to relax enough to enjoy himself. Sadie wasn't holding her breath.

"Why don't you come with us?" Sadie asked Evelyn after she'd put on her undergarments and was sliding her stockings up her legs.

Evelyn fell face-first into her bed with a groan. Her muffled voice was barely articulate through her pillow. "I can't." She rolled over onto her back. "Peggy asked me to sit down with Dum Dum and do a review exercise on my map-reading abilities. Apparently I'm still not up to snuff."

"A real disappointment for Dum Dum, I'm sure," Sadie teased. "Besides, better him than someone else. At least Sergeant Dugan has a sense of humor."

"That's true. Plus he doesn't go on about what I can or can't do. Just this afternoon Doc Holmes said he wanted to talk to Howard about the weight in our packs and to make sure it's distributed more to him. He even offered to carry some of my stuff. I kindly reminded him that I've done just fine in the field so far."

A smirk tugged at Sadie's lips. She suspected that Ian Holmes' offer had less to do with her ability and more to do with her good favor. After she adjusted her slip she sat down at the vanity to do her makeup. "What did you really want to say to him?"

Evelyn propped herself up by her elbow. "That he could stick his forceps where the sun doesn't shine." Sadie's laughter filled the room and Evelyn grinned guiltily. With a dramatic sigh, Evelyn continued to languish on her bed and watched Sadie struggle with her sore muscles to pin her hair into an acceptable style. "It must be nice to have a handsome guy fawn over you all the time and give you an excuse to get all gussied up. I'm amazed it hasn't gone to that pretty head of yours."

Sadie rolled her eyes, glaring at her friend in the reflection of the vanity mirror. She bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that Evelyn already had two men fawning over her. But bringing the notion that Sergeant Dugan and Doctor Holmes tended to pay her more attention than necessary would drag up an entire conversation Sadie didn't want to have.

"Bucky doesn't fawn," she retorted. Evelyn arched a humorous, disbelieving eyebrow. Sadie fought her tiny smile. It was a well known fact that in the first weeks of their newly minted relationship, Bucky had a bad habit of staring at Sadie when they were out and hovering in the waiting area of the hospital until her shift ended. "Anymore."

"Well, on behalf of all of us girls going through a drought, do yourself a favor and go get lost in a dark, deserted corner, will you?"

Heat swirled into Sadie's cheeks as she thought about the last time they disappeared from sight to a rather well-hidden room on the top floor of their building, an old hotel converted into SSR quarters. Sadie would never share the details with Evelyn but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed Bucky pulling her into his lap or the feel of his firm body beneath her searching hands. "I'll do my best," she said vaguely. "Though usually Steve insists that both of them walk me to the door. I think he doesn't trust Bucky."

"Gee, I wonder why," mused Evelyn sarcastically.

Sadie chose to ignore the insinuation in Evelyn's voice and finished her makeup, capping it off with her preferred shade of red lipstick. She pulled one of the few civilian dresses hanging in her closet, one that Peggy lent her and she'd had tailored.

Bucky knocked on the door with just seconds to spare. He and Steve were both on the other side. She garnered an appreciative smile from Bucky.

"Ready?"

Sadie bade goodbye to Evelyn and snapped the door shut before either man could see the redhead's obnoxious expression.

X X X

The Castle Rock Pub was tucked away near the SSR headquarters and was a favorite among the staff and soldiers. Tucked away from the main hustle and bustle of the city, the pub was also frequented by locals and was a quiet enough place for meetings among friends. It was there that Sadie found herself sitting at the bar with Bucky and his best friend, Steve Rogers.

The sheer force of their combined handsomeness was almost too much, even for Sadie as she perched on a bar stool at the corner of the bar while Steve sat at the adjacent side. Bucky stood between them, his arm draped so casually over the back of Sadie's chair that a passerby might not even know they were a couple. Every so often she felt the gentle brush of his thumb against her shoulder, just light enough that it could have been an accident, but Sadie knew better.

Tonight was the first night since early January that the trio spent any real time together, but it seemed long overdue. Steve, as Bucky's childhood friend and architect behind Sadie's transfer to London, had been keen on really getting to know Sadie. This turned out to be quite fortunate for her. Not only was Steve Rogers polite, funny, handsome, and accidentally charming, but he had zero qualms about telling childhood stories. Steve had a wonderful sense of humor and seemed to thoroughly enjoy teasing Bucky every chance he got, which led to the revelation of many charming and embarrassing stories of the pair as children.

As Sadie leaned back in her chair, fingers curled around her gin and tonic, she glanced out of the corner of her eye to see a furious flush in Bucky's cheeks. Her smile only grew before she burst into laughter as Steve rounded out his tale.

"Anyway, Bucky and I are standing at the street corner and Veronica Tate is on the other side waving at him from the window of her family's butcher shop. And he's got this big bunch of flowers that he stole from Mrs. Abernathy's garden with the roots still hanging down and dirt everywhere. It had just rained that morning and there were still a lot of puddles in the road and just before we're about to cross the street, a car comes roaring by and splash!"

Bucky dropped his head, trying to hide his mortification. Sadie threw her head back and laughed. "He's absolutely covered in filthy street water, head to toe. The flowers are all over the place and Veronica Tate is doubled over in the window, laughing so hard she's crying. Sort of like you are now!"

Sadie raised her fingers to wipe the tears from beneath her eyes. "How old were you?" She asked, pulling back to get a better view of Bucky.

A pink blush beat in his cheeks and he raised an eyebrow to Steve as if to say 'I should have left you at home.' But when his blue eyes returned to her face, she could see the warmth burning in them, betraying his own amusement. "Ten," he said. "It was the day before Valentine's day."

"So you stole flowers to bring them to your crush, that's sweet!" She teased, nose wrinkling with a smile.

"Well, that's what my dad did every year, so I figured all girls liked flowers."

"Hmm we do love flowers," said Sadie. "So, did Miss Tate end up being your Valentine?"

Both Steve and Bucky chuckled. "Not exactly," said Steve, with a shake of his head. "She went to school the next day and told everyone what happened. To get back at her, Bucky put a spider in her desk."

"She screamed so loud I thought the glass was gonna break."

Bucky let out a small indignant shout when Sadie hit his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Ow, hey! What was that for?" He asked, catching her fingers in his before she could withdraw her hand.

"You put a spider in that poor girl's desk? That's so mean!" She chastised.

"I wouldn't get too mad, Veronica ended up getting the last laugh."

Almost immediately Bucky sobered once more, pointing an accusatory finger at Steve. "Don't you dare," he warned, eyes hardening at the sight.

"Oh now you have to tell me," Sadie said, leaning forward.

Steve shot Bucky an apologetic expression before draining the last part of his beer. Bucky reached for his scotch and grumbled into it, resigned that there was no way he'd ever get out of this. "Well, it turns out that Veronica Tate held a bit of a grudge against Bucky and a few months later she put an ink capsule into Bucky's drink at school and turned his mouth black for a good three or four days, right before a school art fair."

"I remember my mom calling yours in a panic. She thought it was permanent and washed my mouth out with soap three times," said Bucky, which only caused Steve and Sadie to laugh even harder.

Steve raised his hand to signal the bartender's attention. As he ordered the next round, Sadie found Bucky looking down at her, a small smile painted across his face. "So, Veronica Tate, huh? How many more of your crushes are out there?"

"None that matter," he said, dropping a discrete kiss to the top of her head. With Steve still occupied, a tense silence blanketed the couple. Sadie drew her finger along the rim of her glass. Fresh fear and worry wrapped in bands around her chest, compressing tighter and tighter until they forced the words out.

"So, tomorrow," she said with a soft finality.

Bucky reflexively clenched her shoulder. "Tomorrow."

Sadie grasped at the wisps of thought in her mind, of half-formed sentiments that would simply fall flat in the face of the coming days. This, of all times, was the time to say something but she realized there was nothing left to say. Bucky knew she loved him, he knew she worried about him and no amount of proclaiming these truths could keep either of them alive. She could practically feel the stiffness in his muscles, running rigid through his fingers and right into her. "Did Peggy tell you that if you have to shoot do it between breaths? Your aim will be better."

"Bucky, don't," she warned in a low voice. "Please not tonight."

Sadie lifted her chin to face him, to further implore him to let it go. Darkness clouded his blue eyes. The corners of his mouth drew downward, into an uncharacteristically ugly expression. "Sade, I can't help it," he pleaded in a voice so soft she barely heard him. "I'll do everything I can to keep you safe, I don't care whether it drives you crazy or not."

Something drove his speech, something Sadie couldn't understand. Bucky was not a desperate or overbearing man. But he was desperate now, so desperate that he was beyond rationality. Perhaps this was about her and their relationship, and Sadie suspected that was part of his newfound anxiety. There was more to it though, connected with the internal battles that Bucky fought and tried so hard to hide from the world. Although many members of Captain Rogers' team were survivors of Azzano, Bucky was the sole survivor of an isolation ward – a fact revealed to Sadie by Dugan, much to Bucky's dismay. He flat-out refused to talk about his ordeal, saying it was bad enough he'd let Sadie worry for three weeks without putting her through the misery of knowing what actually happened. But Sadie knew the outward cost. She'd been the one with her finger on Corporal Meyers' artery and she'd sat watch over Douglas Lovtiz's bedside during the nights he woke up in a cold sweat screaming. Maybe Bucky's waves of unsolicited advice were about his love for Sadie, but they were also about Bucky's unending guilt over the soldiers and friends he'd lost and his determination to never lose another.

Sadie wanted to fight him – and she would, but not now. Not on the eve of their first mission. Steve joined them with fresh drinks just as Sadie nodded, still staring wide-eyed at Bucky. "Okay."

A fraction of the tension left his shoulders. Steve's return didn't allow him to say another word, but he moved just a little closer to her, already positioning himself in such a away as to warn the world that if anyone wanted to get to her, they'd have to go through him first. It wasn't exactly the passionate declaration of love or promise to move mountains that many a girl might hope for in this situation, but Sadie could live with that. She'd never been much like the other girls anyway.

X X X

A shiny spot was beginning to form on the backside of the Saint Christopher's medal that Sadie gave to Bucky. He'd formed a habit of rubbing his thumb over the smooth backside of the medallion, taking a small measure of comfort in both the action and in the thought of the woman who gave it to him. Early in his service, Bucky noticed that most soldiers had a pre-battle ritual or habit. Some men smoked what they liked to call their 'last cigarettes' while some recited prayers and clutched their rosary beads. Still some poured over letters from home, fingered trinkets sent by their wives and girlfriends, and looked fondly on photographs from home. Bucky had caught Dum Dum Dugan turning a gold crucifix over and over in his fingers, Gabe liked to hum hymns under his breath and Sadie spun her father's wedding ring on her finger.

Bucky dared to cast a glance down the two facing rows of his comrades. Near the back with the rest of the support staff, Evelyn Lewis rest her head on Sadie's shoulder while the brunette twisted a flash of gold over the tip of her index finger. His thumb slipped over the smooth surface of the Saint Christopher's medal and he wondered if the inside of Sadie's father's ring was as shiny and smooth; he assumed it probably was. Across from Sadie, Doctor Ian Holmes stared blankly ahead, his lips moving rapidly. The only light to fill the cabin were the dull, red overhead lights that barely illuminated the company, all crammed together in a C-47.

The plane, which had already made the herculean journey from Ipswich to Kiev, cut through the night sky on the prayer that a single aircraft wouldn't be enough to draw the attention or the fire of the enemy below. So far so good, even as the engines roared and the rattling cabin threatened to shake Bucky's teeth out. Relaxing wasn't an option, though Bucky doubted he could relax even if he wanted to. The fact that he was embarking on his first combat mission since October hadn't escaped him or any of the other members of the newly-minted Howling Commandos.

Still, Bucky tried to keep his muscles from tensing too tightly and he loosened his legs, letting them stick out just a little further into the aisle. Across from him, Steve stared blankly at the floor, hunched over with his patriotic blue helmet in his hands. Bucky would go to his grave teasing Steve over the spangled costume, but at least this time the garment was well-made. Everything the Commandos and the support staff wore and carried was brand new, from the soles of Bucky's combat boots to his blue jacket to the rifle he held between his legs. Some of the new gear replaced items lost or destroyed during his imprisonment, while some of it was tailor-made by Howard Stark and his team. Even the translator wore specially made clothing.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders a little to relieve the tension and trained his blue eyes on Steve. Grand rescue mission aside, this was Steve's first real foray into a battle situation. Even more so, it was his first command mission. Bucky knew well the kind of weight that settled into the pit of Steve's stomach, of the fear, not only for himself but for the lives of every man under his command. In spite of their many differences, Bucky knew Steve would take the loss of a man just as hard as he had, maybe worse if that were possible.

The plane shook and jostled, sending James Falsworth bumping into Bucky. The Englishman grinned in apology. At the same time, Steve slid carefully from his seat to the open doorway of the plane. Bucky turned as best he could with his gear to catch a glimpse of the dark earth below them. Only a half moon hung in the sky, not enough to throw the shapes of the fields and countryside into any kind of relief. Nighttime navigation on the ground was difficult enough; Bucky didn't envy the pilots responsible for guiding the plane to the drop zone. Steve glanced up from the doorway and hazarded a grin at Bucky. He took way too much enjoyment out of this kind of stuff.

A red light next to the door turned on, catching the attention of every member aboard. After a small struggle with his ungainly gear, Bucky got to his feet at the same time as Steve. Using a series of motions, Steve ordered the crew to hook up to the line running the length of the cabin. As Bucky clipped his hook over the line, he caught a single glance at Sadie, whose face was unusually tight. The smallest smirk touched his lips. Sadie hated flying and she'd hated the practice jumps even more.

One by one the crew checked the person in front of them until Bucky cleared Steve. The red light turned to green. For Bucky, the trick to jumping out of an airplane was to let the momentum of the line carry him along with the forceful reminder that he wouldn't be outdone by Steve's enthusiasm. So, when Steve stepped out of the plane without so much as a second's hesitance, Bucky let that and the push of the line behind him bring him to the doorway where he stepped out and let gravity take care of the rest. He sucked in a breath of cold, thin air just as his body jerked to the right and then downward. Above him, his parachute opened, catching the air and staying his free fall. From there it was all a matter of steering himself the best he could until he landed. Just below him he could see the outline of Steve's parachute, the dark green nearly invisible in the night sky.

This part of the jump was the only part Bucky enjoyed, the slow descent and the way the ground grew larger and larger until he thought he could reach out and brush his fingers past the tree tops. A yawning field came into view, steadily increasing in size. The lower he got to the earth the faster it seemed to approach and he positioned his body and rifle for the smoothest landing possible. With a gentle thud he touched down, jogging a couple of steps to find his legs and slow his momentum. He pounded the release mechanism on his chest and the parachute dropped away, allowing him to jog further forward. Steve was just a few yards away and all around Bucky the rest of the team descended to the earth.

Without waiting for anyone else, he got his bearings and turned left towards the long, unbroken tree line. Running fast and low he followed after Steve into the trees and dropped to a knee once he was safely under cover. Shadowy figures followed as one by one the entire team joined. Bucky let out a sigh of relief he hadn't realized he'd been holding; phase one successfully completed, he told himself.

"We all here?" Steve asked the team assembled around him, his voice low.

Bucky could just make out the faces of the Commandos in the darkness. "Assault team all here," he muttered to Steve.

"Support staff all here." Doctor Ian Holmes' voice came from the far right where he'd assembled with his smaller team, consisting of Sadie, Evelyn, a translator, and a radioman.

Steve nodded once. "Alright, stay quiet and alert. Let's move out."

X X X

The first watery rays of sun were just peeking through the trees when Captain Rogers held up a hand and dropped to a knee. As one the entire company stopped, including Sadie. She and Evelyn sank down at the same time and while the red head cast a curious glance in her friend's direction, Sadie kept her eyes on the road just ahead, through the thinning trees. Gabe Jones jogged forward and crouched down behind a large pine, peering in either direction of the road.

"All clear," he whispered, motioning for the rest to go forward.

The road, if you could call it that, was nothing more than a rough gravel path hewn between the ancient trees. A good amount of dust kicked up beneath Sadie's boots as she darted across the opening and back into the cover of the trees. Already a fine layer of dust and dirt clung to the back of her neck and the clothes she wore. Although her feet and lower back were beginning to ache, Sadie pressed forward, looking away from the woods ahead only when another person fell into step with her.

Dum Dum's broad, affable grin was always a welcome sight. "Morning, nurse," he said with a tip of his head.

"Sarge," she replied softly and just as pleasantly. The march wasn't so bad when the company was good, she thought to herself. Walking next to Dum Dum eased her mind a fraction. He was heavily armed and marched with an ease she could never hope to replicate in these circumstances. Although Sadie carried a pistol at her hip and a knife sheathed just inside of her boot, she and Evelyn had foregone rifles in order to carry the brunt of the medical supplies, extra rations, and emergency tents if needed. Evelyn protested strongly at not being allowed a rifle but it suited Sadie just fine. She had zero intentions of taking any lives while in the field; just carrying the pistol made her uncomfortable. Further, she preferred to keep her hands free of any hindrance so she could provide medical assistance as quickly as possible. But that didn't mean she was opposed to keeping company with the well-armed, such as Dum Dum.

"Nice morning for a stroll," he said, spirits undiminished. "I could go for a hot breakfast though."

Sadie bit back her laughter. "The tea service in Kiev wasn't to your liking?"

He chomped on his cigar, getting a better hold on it between his white teeth. Though he continued to patrol the spaces between the trees, Sadie thought she detected a hint of hardness in his features. "There wasn't anything in Kiev to my liking."

That was, in Sadie's opinion, the gospel truth. Kiev turned out to be cold, wet, and mostly destroyed. The soldiers of the Red Army assigned to hold the city spent much of their time shifting away the rubble of entire city blocks only to bury the bodies they recovered. Even now Sadie hadn't figured out the complicated and chaotic structure of Russia's grand army and the commanding officers were hard, cold men who had seen too many unforgiving winters. Sadie, Evelyn, and Doc Holmes personally delivered several crates of medical supplies to the hospital and spent time helping treat the patients ensconced away in a crumbling church. As was often the sad case, Sadie discovered the wounded men languishing in an understaffed, crumbling church ward. Though by the time Steve and Gabe came and fetched the medical team, Sadie had seen more than one genuine smile from a relieved patient.

A chilly breeze ruffled the pine branches above, sending a shower of pine needles falling on Sadie's head. The fragrant scent chased away the pungent smoke from Dum Dum's cigar. He continued to march next to her, tapping his fingers along the butt of his rifle to a tune she couldn't hear. Small bursts of conversation cropped up every now and again but for the most part the company continued on in alert silence. Sadie tried to drink in the natural beauty as much as she could, imagining that these forests would be lush and green in a few months' time.

More than once a member of the company halted, prompting everyone to drop to one knee while waiting for any sign of movement. Sometimes Gabe and Morita jogged ahead to scout the area, only to return with the all-clear. For hours they moved on, eating as they walked. The bruise at the joint of Sadie's shoulder throbbed beneath her backpack strap. Every time she tried to readjust she was granted temporary relief before the strap simply slipped back into place, exacerbating the tender spot. Sadie resigned herself to sliding her thumb between her shoulder and the strap in a vain attempt to relieve her shoulder of some of the weight. She tried to take her mind off the pain by reminding herself that she'd endured worse pain over the previous six months.

Late afternoon crept on as the forest sloped downwards towards a small clearing. A grey stone house stood there, partially sheltered by the trees. Old and abandoned, the holes for the windows and doors were open, yawning into darkness. The roof was missing several wood shingles but the structure looked sound, which was all that mattered. Yellow grass grew tall against the base of the building while vines climbed along one corner. The building looked like something out of a fairytale book Sadie read when she was younger and for a fleeting second she imagined an old witch inside, hunkered over a cauldron; but she recovered herself. She was as far away from fairy stories as humanly possible.

Steve crouched low on the very edge of the clearing. "Bucky, you and Dum Dum get down and clear the building."

Bucky's face was as serious as she'd ever seen it. He and Dum Dum nodded once to each other before setting off in separate directions, staying low and where they could easily maintain cover. Eventually both of them disappeared as they flanked the building.

"Alright, when we get in I don't want to waste any time setting up command. It'll be dark soon," said Steve in a low voice. Already Sadie was going through the list of her duties while Steve rattled off more orders, assigning various roles to the remaining members. Evelyn rocked back on her heels, catching Sadie's eyes and rocking her chin up to the clearing. Dum Dum and Bucky were both edging around the corners of the house and paused just outside the doorway. Sadie couldn't read the hand signal Bucky gave but after her third count he spun around, raising his rifle as he stormed inside with Dum Dum tight on his heels. Less than a minute and no gunfire later, both men reappeared and waved the rest of the group down.

Sadie and Evelyn jogged across the clearing. As soon as they made it inside the building, Sadie took stock of the situation. The house was larger than it looked, with at least two ground-level rooms and a room upstairs. Leaves and dirt covered the scrubbed wooden table but as Sadie dropped her pack on it and forced her weight against it, she found it was sound. The backroom contained the remnants of a bed and another table large enough to support a grown man. The support staff overtook the room, setting up a makeshift medical station while the rest of the company busied themselves with a small battery of maps, recon photos, and details of a plan that Steve had outlined in a small leather-bound notebook. Gabe and Morita recovered some musty blankets from the upstairs room and hung them over the windows and the doorway, which allowed the group to set up flashlights along the main room as darkness descended.

Sadie found herself sitting with Dum Dum and Doc Holmes, letting them try to teach her how to play poker. Evelyn sat next to her, worn out by the march. She snoozed lightly with her head on Sadie's shoulder. Across the room, Bucky stood at the large table in deep conversation with Steve and Falsworth. Every so often he glanced up and caught her eyes. They'd hardly spoken since leaving Kiev. Sadie knew it was in part due to their mutual agreement. In the field they were Second Lieutenant Reid, SSR Field Nurse and Staff Sergeant Barnes, Howling Commando. But she supposed they both were unconsciously taking extra care to put as much space between them as possible, to avoid any raised eyebrows or concern about professionalism. Whatever the reasons were, Sadie couldn't so easily turn off her internal longing and when he looked at her from across the room she knew he felt the same.

Later on she and Evelyn disappeared into the back room and slept as best they could, using their packs as pillows. "I never thought I'd miss a foxhole, but here we are," murmured Evelyn, nearly asleep. "My bed in London has never sounded so lovely."

Sadie smiled as she closed her eyes, privately thinking about her bed far away in London and even further away in Little Rock. Finally sleep took her just as she wondered whether Bucky was a quiet sleeper and what it would be like to fall asleep in his arms.

X X X

The next morning dawned cool and grey. Bucky woke with a start when Dum Dum lightly kicked the pack he'd been using as a pillow. "Rise and shine, Buck," he muttered, sniffling faintly as he moved on to wake up the translator a few feet away. Bucky's neck was stiff from his makeshift bed and a mild pain throbbed between his temples as he sat up. All around the main room of the house the rest of the crew was stirring.

Jim Morita tossed him a breakfast K-Ration but Bucky wasn't feeling particularly hungry. Against his protesting knees he got to his feet. Steve was already at the table re-checking the map for probably the fifth time already. Bucky yawned as he joined him, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "Morning."

"Hey," said Steve, entirely distracted by his task. Bucky rolled his eyes. "You should eat that, it's gonna be a long day."

"You're really gonna start in with the mothering this early?" Bucky snapped, turning the K-ration over in his hands to read the contents. He had absolutely zero desire to wolf down a tin can of chopped ham and eggs.

"Captain Rogers is right," said Evelyn around the hairpins in her mouth as she walked behind them. "Doc Holmes is already heating water in the next room for coffee."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled and tore open the striped box to fish out the can and opener. While he fought against the can he zeroed in on the map. "Recon photos estimate a handful of guards and civilian workers?"

Steve nodded, his jaw tight. "If we're lucky, Falsworth and Gabe won't have any trouble wiring up the bridge and we can still catch the morning shift when there's fewer guards and no civilians working."

For the first time, Bucky noted the absence of Dernier and Gabe. "When did they leave?"

"About two hours ago," said Steve. Bucky frowned and hoped his friends were having an easy time of their task. The railroad tracks picked up two miles away from their base camp and another five miles south the tracks crossed a fairly wide gorge via a wooden bridge. Dernier, an artillery specialist before joining the SSR, had taken point on the first phase of the mission to wire the bridge with enough explosives to blow it to hell. Gabe went with him, one of the only other men unbothered by the prospect of climbing along the wooden support beams. They could have a grand time as far as Bucky was concerned; he would rather storm the beach at Salerno again rather than climb all over a rickety wooden bridge like a monkey.

"How long will it take?"

"No clue," said Steve. A small, obnoxious smirk grew on his face. "It's been a long time since I've rigged a bridge to blow up, y'know?"

"Shut up," sniped Bucky, his Brooklyn accent coming on thick. He cuffed Steve upside the back of the head. "When is shift change?"

Steve's good humor dissipated as he checked the wristwatch he'd laid on the table. "About three hours from now."

Next to the marked spot on the map, a recon photograph showed the railway depot on the other side of the bridge that they planned to hit. Weeks of sporadic air surveillance from multiple intelligence communities indicated that the depot not only served as a waypoint for a train that connected two HYDRA factories but was also used as a storage facility for parts and weapons. At any given time there were at least five vehicles at the depot and as many as ten guards watching the post and the civilian workers who unloaded cargo and maintained the facility. From the outset, Steve had been adamant that the team work to limit civilian casualties in the field. Although the company generally agreed with Steve's rule, the more battle-hardened men also knew there was very little they could do when civilians got in the middle of the fighting.

Bucky finally managed to open his can and he made a face at its contents. "God this shit's disgusting. You know what I could go for?"

"Your mother's Sunday roast and a couple fried eggs in butter?" Steve mused. "Because I could go for that too."

"Took the words right out of my mouth."

The key to stomaching a cold K-ration was to eat it as fast as humanly possible and think even less about it. Bucky barely chewed his breakfast and just as he finished the tin, Doctor Holmes appeared in the doorway holding a steaming tin cup. "Water's hot for coffee," he said.

"You want a cup?" Bucky asked Steve. His friend nodded. The back room was substantially cleaner than the front, having been wiped down in anticipation of the most sterile environment possible. At one point a mattress probably covered the wooden boards on the bed, but now it served as a supply station. Sadie crouched there with Jim Morita, the pair speaking in low voices.

"Pressure is key," said Sadie as she pointed to a couple of tightly wrapped, small packages. "Once you get that compression bandage open, get it on the wound as fast as possible. If you can find the source of the bleeding, plug it up with packed gauze. It's going to hurt like hell but you've got to do it."

Bucky shuddered slightly. No member of the Commandos had served as a medic in the field and Jim Morita volunteered to take on the duty, including carrying extra medical supplies on top of the kit that every man carried in the field. With no aid station, it was incumbent upon Morita to do the initial work and he'd spent extra time with the aid team as a result, learning as many field medicine techniques as possible.

Busying himself with filling two mugs with hot water that Doc Holmes boiled in a helmet, Bucky found himself covertly watching Sadie. She spread out four small tubes. "Be sparing with your morphine," she said. "Only give it in dire circumstances. All of the guys in this company are average enough in size and weight that one syrette ought to do it. Don't forget, stick the needle through the lapel so we know not to overdose."

Jim listened to her with rapt attention before his face crinkled in confusion. "What about Captain Rogers?"

Sadie sighed and rocked back slightly. Bucky's hands faltered on the package of instant dissolve coffee he was readying to pour into his mug. "We don't know," she admitted. "But considering what we do know about his condition, I'm guessing one won't cut it. I think I'd recommend you start with one syrette, check his response and then a second but no more than two. Check that with Doc Holmes before you move out, okay?"

"Will do. Anything else?"

She shook her head and Jim started to pack away his additional medical gear. "Keep a level head," the clinical tone was gone, replaced by her usual warmth and caring. "If you can slow down the bleeding then we can usually save the patient. Doc Holmes, Evelyn and I will be standing at the ready."

Jim nodded and smiled at her before straightening up. "It's not like the field hospitals, is it?"

"It's less chaotic, actually. A tiny company of extremely well-trained guys versus the entire 107th Infantry? I'd take this any day of the week." Jim shuffled out and Bucky made himself suddenly extremely busy with his and Steve's coffee. But he could feel her presence when she came to him. Sadie reached across him and poured hot water into her mug. "I want to say something meaningful and romantic but every time I try to think of it all I want to tell you is that if you get yourself killed I'll bring you back just so I can do it again myself."

Bucky laughed. "I honestly believe that you would, Sade."

At last he looked down at her face, drinking in the details from her dark eyebrows and freckles down to her full mouth and stubborn chin. "So instead I'm just going to say good luck and I'll see you when you get back."

Bucky swallowed hard. There were so many times when Sadie proved herself to be the immovable force in their relationship. He'd considered what he would say to her too and whether he should indulge in romantic sweet nothings or if that would make this first parting easier. But then she made it easy for him, taking up the mantle of the strong one again and showing him that all the romantic exchanges in the world couldn't hold a candle to the way they were. "Keep yourself safe and I'll see you later, I promise."

If Sadie wanted to respond she never got a chance.

"Hey Sadie!" Evelyn appeared in the doorway. "Doc Holmes wants to talk to us."

Sadie raised her hand and squeezed his upper arm before she departed, taking her hot water and instant coffee packet with her.

X X X

A light but persistent drizzle hung over the clearing and continued to be a nuisance to Bucky when the Commandos moved out, headed to the railway bridge. Dernier and Gabe were still wiring the bridge and Dernier stayed behind to finish the job while Gabe scrambled back over the tracks to join the two mile march to the depot. Eventually, Steve veered the company off course, taking a circuitous route through the woods that ensured an element of surprise. They walked in total silence, each man watching for any sign of movement.

The terrain was ideal for finding cover but would be difficult to traverse in the event of a hasty retreat. Shallow valleys and short, sloping hills punctuated the woods which were covered in a layer of dead leaves and pine needles. Although no animals crossed the company's path, Bucky could hear the birds twittering in the trees and the faint rustle of leaves told him the forest active even in the light rain. He felt uneasy in the forest, as though a large target was painted on the back of his blue jacket. Perhaps growing up in Brooklyn colored his opinions because he would much rather be running up on a town rather than praying for the element of surprise in the middle of the woods. With any luck, these particular guards had been relegated to the depot because they weren't the best and brightest HYDRA had to offer. The depot wasn't really the issue for this mission anyway, it was the bridge that Dernier would blow as soon as the company crossed back over.

They came to a hill and Steve halted the company. Bucky followed him up the slope, trying to crawl over the leaves as quietly as possible. Flat on his stomach, Bucky just barely came to the crest of the hill, enough to see the two wooden buildings that served as the depot and storage facility.

"Damn," whispered Steve. "We missed the morning shift."

The larger of the two buildings opened to the side where two men dressed in civilian clothing were working. Bucky ignored them and scanned the perimeter. He counted five guards from his position. "There'll be more guards at the front," he hissed back.

"They'll come running when we start shooting."

Both of them slid away from the top of the hill and returned to the waiting company. Crouched down, the company formed a tight circle. Every so often a pair of eyes swept above the heads of the others before returning to the group.

"What's the plan, Cap?" A reckless, almost excited light shone in Dugan's eyes. Bucky would never relish fighting the way his friend did.

"It's gonna go just like we planned. Bucky and Gabe you'll flank the left side of the warehouse. Dum Dum, it'll be you, Falsworth and Morita on the right of the depot. I'll drive up the center to provide a distraction. Take out the guards but leave the civilians alive if you can. Once we've secured the buildings we'll check for intel and then blow them."

It was a simple enough plan to follow. Bucky signaled to Gabe and the two of them fell back and departed the group, headed to flank the far side of the storage building. Together, they crept as close as possible to the building, ducking behind the nearest tree any time one of the guards so much as tilted his head and masked face in the direction of the trees. The going was slow until finally Bucky settled his back against the widest tree he could find exhaling gradually to release some of his nerves. Gabe stood against a tree a few feet away, watching both him and the what he could see of the backside of the buildings, waiting for Steve's signal to open fire. Bucky took his opportunity to edge around the tree to get a glimpse of the small clearing around the storage building. A group of three stood together, speaking in low voices, muffled by the obnoxious helmets they wore. At the corner of the front of the building, Bucky caught a flash of movement. Catching Gabe's eyes, he held up three fingers and gestured to the back of the building and one finger for the front. All things considered, Bucky thought this was a manageable amount, though he expected more to appear from the front side near the railroad tracks.

Now all he could do was wait for Steve's signal, which came only seconds later. The signal wasn't much of a signal, instead it was the bellows in a foreign language that told Bucky it was time. At once, Gabe stepped out of cover and took aim at one of the three guards who was rushing towards Steve who, like an idiot, charged right towards the center of the depot, shield held in front of him for protection. There would be time for Bucky to berate his friend later. Instead he rolled off to the left and pushed the butt of his rifle into his shoulder and took aim at the lone guard at the corner of the front side of the building. He took aim and dropped the guard with ease. Gabe's initial shots confused and scattered the three guards, one of which he finally took down. With shots coming from either direction mass confusion descended amongst the unprepared guard, just as Steve planned. He was a blue blur until a guard got close enough and he launched the circular shield, which sent the guard flying backwards, flailing like a child's ragdoll. Bucky started to aim for another guard but a flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A second guard appeared from around the front of the building, gun raised for Gabe who still stood out of cover. Bucky squeezed off a shot and the guard fell before he could even slide his finger over the trigger. Gabe started, eyes wide.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem," replied Bucky while he discharged the shell casing and put another guard in his cross hairs only for Steve's shield to do the job. Bucky killed the final guard on their side and the pair sprinted to the side of the building and flattened against it. Bucky crept to the edge and peered around. The wooden platform that ran parallel with the tracks was mercifully devoid of HYDRA guards.

"All clear," he said to Gabe who nodded and the pair jogged to the front and onto the platform. The gunfire had already died down.

Two more voices shouted the all clear and Bucky relaxed. The hard part was over. Jogging to the lane between the buildings he pulled up short at the sight of Morita kneeling on the ground, pushing a compress bandage over the side of a wounded civilian who thrashed and screamed. The other civilian was on his knees, babbling incoherently with the exception of two words, which he repeated over and over again. "Not HYDRA! Not HYDRA!"

Falsworth watched carefully and held his pistol aloft when he reached with a shaking hand into his breast pocket and produced a photograph. Bucky approached and peered over Falsworth's shoulder. A young woman cradled an infant in the photograph. Falsworth raised his eyebrows and jerked his chin to the man.

"Yours? Your family?"

When the man continued to speak, gesturing to the picture, Falsworth held the photograph up to face him and, using the barrel of his pistol, gestured from the woman in the picture to the man, raising his eyebrows in a questioning manner. The gesture worked and he swallowed hard, nodding. The body language said enough and Falsworth lowered his pistol and silently handed the photograph back. The civilian pocketed the photograph with care, then turned his panicked gaze on the other man who yowled in pain when Morita pressed further down on his wound. The noise between both civilians reached a new pinnacle when Steve reappeared, sliding his shield into its holster on his back. Falsworth looked at the unharmed worker dubiously. "Captain Rogers, what should we do with him?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced between both men. Morita piped up. "I can't stop the bleeding on my own. He needs a doctor."

This statement answered Steve's question. "We'll take both of them back and release them once Doc Holmes and the nurses treat his wound."

"And what about this bastard?" Dugan shouted over the din. He marched forward and in front of him an unarmed HYDRA guard shuffled along. The barrel of Dugan's gun pressed up against the guard's spine and he wore a shit-eating grin from around the cigar he'd produced out of seemingly nowhere. One of the guard's shoulders hung lower than the other, and he kept his arm against his torso. Dugan seemed to pay no mind to the man's dislocated shoulder and the closer they drew, he shoved him forward. Gabe and Falsworth both trained their weapons on the guard.

Steve frowned. "Did you do that?" He asked Dugan, pointing to the guard's shoulder.

"No, sir, I'm pretty sure your shield did that." Bucky nodded slowly, that would explain it. "Hasn't said a word yet."

"He might talk back at base camp," mused Steve and he drew closer. The guard twitched. Reflexively, Bucky started to raise his rifle. But Steve held up a hand to call everyone off. He reached for the helmet and with some effort managed to pull it off. Gabe's low whistle said it best. A baby-faced boy possessing large brown eyes and a thick thatch of dark blonde hair stared blankly at Steve. Freckles scattered across his young, perfectly smooth skin. He couldn't have been more than nineteen years old, if that. Sweat beaded at his hairline and poured down his temple; Bucky watched the veins running down his neck pop out erratically but despite his obvious pain he remained perfectly stoic.

"Jesus Christ," remarked Gabe, moving closer to get a better look at the guard. "He's just a kid!"

 **A/N: Next chapter picks up where we leave off and is partially written so I doubt the wait will be as long for next chapter!**

 **As always, I love your feedback! Much love - Kappa**


	21. Saving Grace and Whiskey Talks

**A/N: So, this is a pretty intense chapter and as a result it was really fun and really challenging to write. But it was SUCH a fun (and important) exercise to explore the limits of these characters and how they stay tied to their foundations, moral upbringings and, more importantly, how they have all become the product of their experiences. I can't wait for you to read it and I hope you enjoy it.**

 **As always, so much love. Thank you, thank you for your reviews, favorites, and follows! Extra thanks to Stencil Your Heart my beta-extraordinaire!**

 **HUGE WARNING – this chapter contains violence of an extreme and unusual nature for this story! The usual warnings for language also apply.**

 **Disclaimer – sigh…you guys…I think you know I don't own** _ **Cap**_ **.**

 **Chapter 21 – Saving Grace and Whiskey Talks**

"Okay, see this card?" Evelyn tapped one of the playing cards in Sadie's hand. "You should discard that for a new card."

Sadie couldn't make heads or tails of the two fives, two nines, and one Jack she held up so Doc Holmes and the translator couldn't see. For all her intelligence, poker and its accompanying strategy escaped her. On her left, Doc Holmes struggled to keep a straight face, amusement lighting his hazel eyes behind his glasses. Evelyn leaned over the back of Sadie's chair whispering counsel in her ear. The red head was quite a proficient poker player and, much to Sadie's irritation, was thoroughly enjoying Sadie's inability to grasp the basic concepts.

Still, she followed her friend's advice and discarded the Jack in exchange for a new card. It was the two of spades. Evelyn pursed her lips, displeased with Sadie's new card. Sadie tried to get a read on the two gentlemen sitting on either side of her. The translator, Second Lieutenant Danes, kept a remarkably straight face for the duration of the game. Doc Holmes, on the other hand, seemed too busy sneaking admiring glances of Evelyn to really be totally invested in the game.

In the far corner of the room, the radioman continued to fiddle with the dial in hopes of intercepting an enemy signal that the translator could decipher. The irritating buzz of static eventually faded into background noise though it spiked in volume just as Sadie let Evelyn coach her through the round of betting.

"Corporal Gutierrez, could you turn that down? I can't hear my own thoughts," Doc Holmes complained with a sigh of long-suffering. Sadie raised a hand to hide her indelicate smile but stopped short.

"That's not the radio," she said just as the translator got to his feet, the card game completely forgotten.

"It's a vehicle," Lieutenant Danes agreed. He and Doc Holmes both reached for their rifles as did the radioman. A flash of metal in Evelyn's hand startled Sadie; she'd pulled her pistol from the holster at her hip. Sadie's fingers twitched and moved towards her own firearm and then stopped. The roar of a vehicle grew louder until it was right outside the house. The engine died and everyone who was armed raised their weapon, ready to shoot at anything coming through the door.

Strangled yelling in a language Sadie couldn't understand came from the jeep. Without realizing her actions, Sadie immediately swept the cards off the table and lunged for her pack. Within seconds four figures burst through the doorway – Falsworth and Jim Morita supporting a badly wounded man in bloodied civilian clothing. Another civilian followed them, shouting and gesturing wildly in the direction of his injured companion and back towards the doorway. The volume rose to ear-ringing levels, amplified by the tight quarters and echoing off the walls.

"He needs you, Doc!" Jim bellowed over the incoherent screaming.

"Take him to the back room, on the table in there, hurry up!" Doc Holmes lowered his rifle as he spoke, slinging it on his back. Jim and Falsworth did as told and carried the wounded man into the back room, all while Jim continued to put pressure on the compression bandage pressed into the man's left side. The uninjured civilian followed, quieting for a blessed moment. Two more figures came through the doorway and all activity ground to a halt. Evelyn's hand was halfway to returning her pistol to its holster. At once Lieutenant Danes and Corporal Gutierrez raised their rifles to point at the man who came in first, dressed head to toe in black. Sadie's mouth fell open. Dugan marched in behind him, his rifle barrel planted squarely against the prisoner's back.

For he was a prisoner, there was no getting around that fact. If the unusual dress or overdramatic response by the rest of the staff didn't betray this fact then the red patch on the soldier's shoulder did. A skull with an octopus's tentacles made up the stitching, ominous even in such a small form. Even from across the room she read the prisoner's baby-faced features. He couldn't have been older than twenty, if that. Without his uniform, Sadie suspected the prisoner could pass as any ordinary man on any street. Her stomach rolled; so this was the enemy?

Enemy or not, Sadie's surprise gave way to a clinical assessment. His right arm hung noticeably lower than the left and even beneath his thick jacket, Sadie could tell his shoulder was completely dislocated. The prisoner walked with a stilt in his gait, favoring his left side in general. In the dimly lit house and with the prisoner's all black uniform it was impossible for Sadie to tell whether he'd been injured. When the prisoner hesitated in the doorway a sharp jab to the back by Dum Dum urged him forward, jostling his shoulder. Though the pain would have been excruciating, the only response the prisoner gave was to screw up his eyes and tighten his mouth. He hobbled forward into the house and, unbidden to Sadie, she recoiled.

More loud yelling filled the entire room as Falsworth reappeared, forcing the uninjured civilian with him. "You'll see your friend when the doctor is finished!" He yelled back, as though raising the tone of his voice would get through to the man. Exasperated, he pointed to the Second Lieutenant Danes. "For God's sake will you tell this man to calm down?"

Danes jumped into action and started speaking rapidly, only managing to quiet the man in short bursts. Falsworth wiped the sweat from his forehead and he returned his attention to the prisoner who hadn't so much as blinked in the face of the ruckus the civilians raised. A grimness darkened Falsworth's normally friendly face. "One of you will need to see to it that he's treated for any injury. Captain Rogers has ordered that he remain alive for questioning."

Dugan snorted. "Might as well line him up out back and shoot 'em for all he's gonna tell us."

Sadie's blood ran cold. She opened her mouth to disagree but shut it at the silent agreement between the men in the room. Falsworth and Dugan exchanged a meaningful look that Sadie couldn't decipher. But then Falsworth gave Dugan one small shake of his head. "Doctor Holmes?"

Every eye fell on Ian Holmes. The good Doctor evaluated Sadie and Evelyn, weighing their capabilities, but in Sadie's mind it was a no-brainer. Evelyn had more surgical training than she did and Sadie had more practice treating injuries without assistance. Doc Holmes came down on her side, though this didn't make the coming task any less foreboding. "Sadie, you'll treat the prisoner. Evelyn, you'll help me operate."

"Sergeant Dugan and I will keep a close watch on him. You won't be alone," promised Falsworth.

"Alright then," said Dugan, poking the prisoner with his rifle again. "Have a seat on that table. Now here's how it's gonna be. You're gonna let Nurse Reid treat your injuries. If you resist treatment, I'll shoot you. If you try to talk to Nurse Reid, I'll shoot you. If you treat her with anything less than the respect she deserves, I'll shoot you. Hell, son. If you so much as breathe the wrong way in her direction, it's lights out."

The prisoner said nothing in response, though Sadie figured that was because he didn't understand a word that Dugan said. Dugan marched him over to sit on the scrubbed wooden table and kept his rifle trained on the guard while Sadie fetched her gear. The civilian in the room began screaming indignantly once more when he saw Sadie start to examine the prisoner. He pointed at the medic's arm band on her bicep and wailed. Sadie gritted her teeth and tried to drown it out. Upon unrolling her kit, she paused and took stock of the guard. When Sadie even shifted closer to the prisoner, Dugan's rifle raised into a better position. Her scowl deepened and, forcibly ignoring Dugan, she reached out and touched the prisoner's injured arm. Sadie watched the prisoner's face carefully, wishing she could read his mind. He seemed determined to not let an ounce of his pain show but Sadie knew he was in an incredible amount of pain; she could tell just by the way the veins on his neck jumped out and the tendons running parallel tightened every time she so much as touched his arm. A sick feeling rolled in the pit of her stomach.

"Did anyone try to secure this man's arm? Or give him some morphine at the very least?"

To Sadie's amazement Dugan actually chuckled. Falsworth had the decency to look mollified. "Captain Rogers wanted us to get on the move as quickly as possible."

"Not that the bastard deserves it in the first place; he sure as hell wouldn't give us the benefit."

Sadie's temper snapped. "Which gives you the right to stoop to his level?"

Her sharp retort took both men by surprise. Over the prisoner's shoulder, the radioman's eyebrows flew up but Dugan remained undeterred. "You don't know what they're like," he argued. "I do."

"I don't care if he marched into your church and shot the whole choir! Prisoners are to be accorded humane treatment," she ground out over the incessant wailing of the civilian in the corner. Snapping her head to the other side she fixed the full force of her ire on Lieutenant Danes. "For heaven's sake, Lieutenant Danes! Will you shut him up and help me?"

Just the sheer act of raising her voice shut everyone else up. The civilian fell silent, gaping at Sadie. She wondered just how scary she really appeared. Over the course of her adolescence and adulthood she'd been repeatedly reminded that she was more intimidating than she really knew. Sadie chalked it up to her steely eyes. Danes spoke to the civilian in a low voice before joining her.

"How can I help, Lieutenant?" He enquired hesitantly.

Sadie tried and failed to smooth her hardened expression. "Please tell the prisoner that I have to remove his jacket so I can get a better look at his shoulder. Tell him to nod if he understands."

The prisoner understood German and when he nodded, Sadie moved in to start the tedious process of removing his jacket. In her peripheral vision she caught the barrel of Dugan's rifle and a fresh surge of anger whipped through her, white hot. "Sergeant Dugan, if you don't lower that rifle I'm going to make you wish you had. Don't think I can't."

Dugan took his time but eventually he stood to the side, scowling deeply but never taking his blue eyes off the prisoner. Sadie was finally able to relax and she started the process of undoing the prisoner's jacket. She'd never been this close to the enemy before and she struggled to keep her trepidation to herself; patients never responded well to panic or even anxiety. Eventually she managed to remove the cumbersome garment and was left with his thin black shirt. At last, she could parse out the severity of the dislocation.

Sadie spoke as she conducted the rest of her examination, the translator a constant drone in her ear. For the duration the prisoner stared blankly ahead, nodding curtly only when the translator prompted him. Aside from his shoulder and some scrapes on his arm, the prisoner was remarkably unharmed and at last Sadie felt comfortable proceeding. With no additional help, she guided the prisoner to lie down on the table where she could reach his affected arm.

Carefully, she took his right forearm and bent the elbow before folding his arm across his torso. Positioning his hand correctly, she raised his forearm straight in the air and took a deep breath. Sadie put her left hand along his shoulder, gently parsing it out until she found the right spot to keep him stable. "Lieutenant Danes, tell him I'm going on the count of three and to try and relax."

Sadie waited until she felt the prisoner exhale and his muscles loosen. Without waiting, she carefully rotated his forearm all the way back and in a smooth, gentle motion brought his arm out and above his head. Beneath her steadying hand she felt the ball of his humerus slide back into its socket at the same time a loud, distinct 'pop!' filled the room. The prisoner grunted in pain and to Sadie's mild amusement, most of the men in the room looked away in obvious discomfort.

"Patients tend to tense up during the countdown," she explained upon seeing Lieutenant Danes' surprise. Sadie folded the guard's arm back against his chest and reached for her morphine. The rest of her treatment was routine, like the perfectly fitted gears of a clock ticking onward. After a while the prisoner's face faded from her mind; he became just another patient to Sadie and her anxiety left her. As she worked, she did not see the mildly sick color on Falsworth's face or the way Dugan's irritation gave to new admiration.

Perhaps it was better that Dugan and the others couldn't put their animosity away when it came to the enemy. Sadie would rather them come out of a firefight unscathed but she knew she could never let herself feel that way. She wasn't a soldier and she never wanted to view the world the way soldiers did.

X X X

Sweat poured down Bucky's temples. He'd unbuttoned the top few buttons of his jacket and shirt beneath, hoping to vent some of the hot air trapped against him. Steve insisted that they drag the bodies to a single spot before relenting Bucky's insistence that they search the bodies for intelligence. It ended up being a pointless exercise, though Bucky didn't expect to find much. Moving the bodies took less time than Bucky anticipated; he wasn't sure if it was Steve's strength on one end doing all the work or if he himself was stronger after weeks of hard training in preparation for these missions. Bucky then followed Steve into the storage warehouse.

"More parts," said Bucky as he kicked at a bucket on the floor, spraying bolts and rivets all over. The warehouse's high ceilings were vaulted with support beams and it was full of shelves, crates, and larger parts of machinery that sat in the middle aisle. Just standing a few feet inside the warehouse raised his pulse. Bucky blinked and saw the aisles were longer, more numerous, and filled with exhausted men slaving away at work stations. A large hand fell firm on his shoulder.

"Well, let's check it out. We might find something useful in all this junk." They split up, going down separate aisles. Bucky kept a naked pistol in his hand as he crept slowly along one set of shelves. He peered inside open-topped crates to find nothing more than delicate machinery nestled in packing material. More nothing followed until he reached the end of the warehouse and halted. The air in his lungs grew stale.

Steve came out of the aisle next to his, examining the feature tucked into the back of the warehouse. "For a worker if he acts out?"

Steve's theory would have been sound but for the owners of the cage. The sweat on the back of Bucky's neck went cold, sending icy shivers down his spine. Metal bars shot through holes in the wood plank floor, rising high above his head and curving overhead in a circular cage, one he'd seen before. Bucky tried not to blink, he tried not to move too quickly lest he find himself on the other side of the bars or grasping onto them, railing against them in a vain attempt to free the people he loved on the other side. He shuddered before finally forcing himself to turn away.

"They'd kill the worker," his monotone voice echoed in the warehouse and he imagined it rattling around inside the cage. Bucky couldn't be in the warehouse any longer. Without looking at or waiting for Steve, he started walking out. "They'd only use that to corral workers overnight or if they got lucky and took enough prisoners to send to a factory. I'm gonna check the depot."

Thankfully, Steve took Bucky's change in stride and gamely followed him into the depot building, where they cleared the main rooms before starting in on the office. Papers littered the desk and the mostly empty bookshelf to one side of the small, barren room. Bucky moved to the bookshelf and reached for the stack on the highest shelf. He thumbed through the loose sheets, mostly individual details and drawings for the items stored in the warehouse.

"HYDRA could use a good secretary," muttered Steve as he opened one desk drawer to find an absolute mess of office supplies. He shoved stamps, pens, and pencils out of the way to search for any hidden gems at the bottom.

Bucky snorted and grabbed the next set of papers. Like everything he'd seen so far, everything was written in German. He could pick up a few words here and there but couldn't make much sense of the memoranda in his hands. The top of each typewritten sheet was stamped with a date and a red HYDRA symbol, providing enough reason for Bucky to fold up the memos and shove them into one of the pockets on his pants. Most of the rest of the information on the shelves involved more storage details, propaganda, and even a couple of novels written in German.

"Hey, come take a look at this."

Steve held a large leather-bound book open in his hands. Trailing over to the desk, Bucky peered over the book and found it to be a log of some kind. Neatly slanted handwriting filled the entry lines and Bucky could make out the date and the time listed on the left side of the lines. Bucky's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the entries on each line.

"Looks like a train hasn't gone through in a couple days then," noted Steve. There were multiple entries for the exact same date and time. Bucky scowled and flipped the page backwards. A common theme ran through each entry, one letter followed by a word.

"They're names," he concluded. "It's a passenger log. First initial and last name."

"You don't think they'd use code names?" Steve muttered sarcastically.

"I doubt they thought any one would get this close," mused Bucky. He tried to keep up with the list of names as Steve flipped back another couple of pages. Down the list he went, mentally parsing out the syllables of the foreign surnames when an entry stood out to him. A punch to his gut would have been less surprising. His jaw clenched reflexively when his teeth ground together. A blaze of white hot fury surged into his chest.

"Bucky?" Steve questioned, noticing the obvious way Bucky's muscles contracted.

Even his index finger shook with barely contained fury when he pointed to the entry on the list. _A. Zola_ , the log read. "That's the bastard." Bucky had to stop, swallowing hard to contain himself. "He's the one who kept me in isolation."

Steve's eyebrows flew up. Though Bucky had shared some details of his ordeal with Steve, he'd been slow in divulging the entire story. Parts were too fresh to speak about and others Bucky would never want to admit to anyone as long as he lived. He never wanted Steve, or his family, his friends, or Sadie to know about the awful hallucinations or the agonizing pain. It was bad enough he'd endured the visions of walking through fields scattered with the bodies of his loved ones, he never wanted them to experience it too.

"That was only five days ago," muttered Steve, noting the date.

Bucky's blood boiled over. Five days, if he'd only been five days earlier he might have seen that monster again. Five days made a world of difference; if he'd been there five days ago he could have put the bullet that Zola sorely deserved right between the mad scientist's eyes.

X X X

Sadie quietly let herself out of the adjoining room. She carried a canteen of water in her hands along with an extra k-ration she scrounged up from her pack. The silence in the main room was oppressive. Falsworth and Dugan hadn't taken their eyes off the prisoner for a second, even as they searched his things. Gabe stood outside of the house, keeping watch for enemy movement and the return of Captain Rogers, Dernier, and Bucky. Lieutenant Danes sat on one of the few chairs in the room, keeping an occasional eye on the civilian man whose energy had finally given out. The man's eyes were puffy and red from the tears he'd been shedding for the better part of the past two hours.

But he had energy enough to sit up and recoil from Sadie when she knelt down in front of him. Holding out the canteen, she tried for her best caring expression and threw in a tiny smile for good measure. "It's just water," she said. Danes slid off his chair to kneel next to her and translate. Sadie continued to speak directly to the civilian. "I've also brought you something to eat and a couple of aspirin. You really should eat and drink."

For a moment Sadie thought the man's distrust of her would win out, but eventually he took the canteen and took an experimental sip. Assured that Sadie was telling the truth, he swallowed the two aspirin and took the ration. Rather than eat, the first thing he did was put a cigarette in between his lips and accept the light that Lieutenant Danes offered. When he spoke next, it was the first time Sadie heard him do anything but shout.

"He wants to know how his friend his doing," translated Danes.

Sadie nodded slowly. Only a moment earlier she'd held a mask over her face to peer over the progress that Doc Holmes and Evie were making, even offering to lend an extra pair of hands. "When the doctor removed the bullet he discovered it hit one of his ribs. He has to make sure there aren't any bone fragments that might puncture one of his major blood vessels or internal organs." Sadie finally rounded out to the secondary purpose of her small mission. "The doctor gave him a plasma transfusion and he's stable so far." The man's face scrunched in confusion and Sadie realized he very likely had no idea what plasma was. "It's like giving him blood," she explained, trying to find a non-academic way to get the information across. "It replenishes the blood he's losing during surgery. I promise I'll check on him in a little bit if we don't hear anything."

The man seemed satisfied and he started to eat, much to Sadie's relief. For a while the trio sat in silence before he spoke up again. "Pietrek." He placed a hand on his chest.

Sadie smiled. "I'm Sadie," she said and let Lieutenant Danes introduce himself. As Pietrek finished eating, she shifted to her knees. "Pietrek, I'm a nurse with the army. I'd like to give you an examination, to make sure you don't have any internal injuries."

Eventually, Pietrek finished eating and submitted to an examination. He spoke as she flashed her penlight in his eyes to check his pupillary response. "He wants to know why you were angry before, when you treated the prisoner," said Lieutenant Danes.

Sadie refused to look towards Dugan, who hadn't said a word to her since she finished fixing the prisoner's arm in a sling. She put away her light and reached for her stethoscope. "My orders were to give every patient humane treatment," she explained in between orders for Pietrek to breathe. "When I became a nurse I took an oath to provide treatment to anyone who should need it. I don't have the luxury of distinguishing between the wounded."

Lieutenant Danes hesitated before he translated what Pietrek said next. "Even when the patient is undeserving of a healing touch?"

Sadie smiled sadly. "That's not for my judgment."

Pietrek's frown deepened. He fixed his puffy brown eyes on the soldier who continued to sit ramrod straight on the table. "When these soldiers came to my town, we thought they would be the same as the Nazis. We thought they would try and force us to fight. Instead they offered work and a fair wage. But when we arrived to the factories, they locked us in. Any man who fought was killed in front of us. They said if we tried to fight they would go back to our town and kill our children and force the women to take our place. They starved us and beat us. We slept in cages like animals." Lieutenant Danes couldn't keep his eyes off Pietrek as he translated for the man, but Sadie found herself watching Falsworth and Dugan. Both men were rigid and the hatred on their faces mirrored the same fury on Pietrek's. It was a kind of loathing Sadie couldn't understand. It was borne from experience and Sadie wondered just how similar their treatment was in Azzano. "They are not men worth saving."

Dugan's humorless chuckle of agreement unsettled Sadie more than words could express. Unable to respond to Pietrek's speech, Sadie finished his examination in silence. When she was satisfied that he was healthy, she left the house to join Gabe outside.

X X X

Hours passed.

The soldiers in the house grew so restless that eventually Falsworth sent Dugan and Morita to check the perimeter of the house while they waited for Captain Rogers and Bucky to return. Sadie drew comfort from the news that both men were entirely unscathed, though she would reserve personal judgment for when she saw them. Pietrek eventually fell asleep in one corner of the room while he waited for news on his companion. Sadie spent as much time outside with Gabe as she could while Falsworth and Lieutenant Danes kept constant watch over the prisoner.

After her clinical attitude towards the prisoner wore off, Sadie found herself unnerved by sharing the same space with him. Every so often she cast a furtive glance through the doorway only to see him exactly where she'd left him, sitting on the table as still as a statue, staring blankly ahead.

"He hasn't said anything yet? To anyone?" Gabe hissed from across the open doorway.

"Not a word," she muttered. On impulse, she checked her wristwatch for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Sadie was used to a more structured schedule to make her rounds and without the carefully constructed shifts of a field hospital, she was left to clock the time herself. Soon, she would need to check her patient's vital signs to make note of any changes in his condition. Though she didn't relish the prospect, she wasn't about to show the men that she was anxious about it either, lest she earn more ire from Sergeant Dugan.

Gabe shook his head and readjusted his grip on his rifle. "Makes me nervous, you know?"

A question occurred to Sadie. If she were speaking to anyone but Gabe she might not have bothered to ask, but the rifleman always seemed to be more of an open book than anyone else in the company. "Are they all like that? The guards?"

Gabe pursed his lips together at once, realizing what she was getting at. "Nah," he replied. "The ones at Azzano shouted orders and pushed us around. I'm surprised Bucky didn't tell you more about it."

A light flush swirled into Sadie's cheeks. Her relationship with Bucky was almost never mentioned by the men, Sadie liked to see it as a well-known but still-guarded secret. She rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably and squinted into the distance. "He doesn't talk about it," she muttered. "And I don't want to pry."

"I get it. If I had a girl of my own I'm not sure I'd want her knowing what happened there either," he mused. Gabe reached across the doorway and touched her elbow, fixing her with a sincere expression. "Look, I know you have to be fearless in there but watch out, okay? I've seen those guards go from calm to crazy in nothing flat."

Sadie tried to give Gabe her best reassuring nurse face before she turned away, back into the house. Only that morning she'd told Jim Morita that she preferred this small company to the large field hospitals but that wasn't quite as true now. Without an entire row of patients to look in on and doctors to clean up after, she felt useless and jittery. Every movement she made was jangly and hollow without a real purpose to drive it. Sadie hated feeling useless and even worse she hated actually being useless. But she knew better than to let her nerves show. Signs of weakness weren't just a danger to expose to a prisoner but Sadie would rather eat her own uniform than let any of the men with her think she couldn't handle herself in the field. Up until now she had done just fine, she reminded herself. There was no point in thinking she couldn't stay that way.

The door to the back room opened and Evelyn appeared. "Hey, Sadie, grab your kit."

Sadie retrieved her pack and hauled it onto the table. "What do you need?"

"Your suture thread and a fresh needle if you've got it."

Sadie unrolled her utensils kit and fished out her suture needle and a package of thread. "Here, do you need any extra gauze?"

"No, this is it," said Evelyn and she nodded her head to the sleeping Pietrek. "When he wakes up you can tell him it looks like his friend is going to make it."

A wave of relief rippled through the room. Evelyn left them on that high note, snapping the door shut behind her to return to help Doctor Holmes. While Sadie had her gear readily available she decided the moment was as good as any to reexamine the prisoner. "Lieutenant Danes?" She prompted for her translator.

The guard's hard eyes tracked Sadie's every move, watching as she gathered her stethoscope and light. She avoided making eye contact all while having Lieutenant Danes translate her instructions. Drawing in a deep breath, Sadie stepped closer to him and heard the mechanical grumble of two rifles rising; Dugan and Morita had returned from their sweep. Gritting her teeth, Sadie kept her whole attention focused on the guard who now stared at her with such deep intensity that her pulse jumped and the vein at her throat jumped out.

Sadie pushed the ear pieces of her stethoscope in place and put the saucer to his chest. "One breath in," she said and the prisoner did as asked. "And out."

He exhaled sharply and Sadie gasped when an ice cold hand closed over her wrist. Sadie recoiled as the guard's fingers clenched so hard she felt the tendons and bones rub together. His face remained expressionless as he pulled her closer, his dead eyes just inches away from her. Baring his sharp teeth he raised his chin in defiance.

Dugan's incensed shouts filled the room but there was nothing he could do. There was no shot anyone could take in such a tightly packed room without the risk of hitting Sadie. As he held her close, Sadie felt the cold rush of fear and bitter adrenaline fill her mouth. The guard grappled behind him for something and then he pulled Sadie so close she felt his hot breath on her face.

"Hail HYDRA," he hissed and then in a harsh jerk he shoved her backwards, sending her stumbling into Morita who barely caught her.

"No!" More than one voice bellowed as Sadie lurched to her feet with Morita. The guard dragged her scalpel across his throat, pressing the edge of the blade deep, slicing his carotid artery open. Blood gushed from the wound and a defiant yell died in his throat. Sadie wrenched free of Morita's hold and dropped to her knees as he collapsed, the scalpel flying across the floor and skidding to a halt, leaving a spatter of blood behind it. The guard's legs twitched as he landed on his back and almost immediately Sadie's hands came to his throat, trying to stymy the gushing blood. The arterial spurts wormed through her fingers. Blood spilled over her hands and his wild eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Someone help me!" She shouted, pressing down harder on the bleeding. Sick gurgling bubbled up from his mouth and he coughed, sending blood out of his mouth, streaking down his cheeks.

A door flew open with a bang and footsteps accompanied the frenzied shouting. "Sadie!"

Evelyn swung to a halt in the doorway, still wearing her surgical gear. She lurched forward to help but it was already too late. Falsworth knelt on the floor next to Sadie with her towel in his hand, ready to mop away the blood, ready to help but it was too late.

"Come on," she whispered angrily, trying to get a hold on the bleeding. One of her hands slipped, sending her knuckles cracking into the floor. The guard's chest spasmed and he coughed again between wet gasps for air. Some rational part of Sadie knew he was drowning in his own blood, but she couldn't bring herself to give up. Already the guard's muscles were slowing and his chest started to seize as his heart began to fail. "Come on, COME ON!" She shouted through gritted teeth, rocking her weight forward for better leverage but to no avail.

Dugan hovered nearby, Morita and Gabe peering over his shoulders to watch as the guard's body stilled. His eyes rolled once more and found Sadie. They stared at one another. Blood discolored his lips and stained his teeth. He moved his lips once, ready to form dying words that she would never hear. Through her hands she felt the final pulse of his vein and the life left him, some unknown force slithering out of his body and into the void. His eye glassed over and he saw no more.

Sadie dropped her head in defeat, releasing the breath she'd been holding. Tentatively, Falsworth touched her shoulder. Slowly, Sadie straightened and lifted her head. Steve and Bucky stood in the main doorway, mouths agape at the grisly sight. Blood pooled on the floor around the guard's head. It seeped slowly around the knees of her trousers, matching the smears on her forearms and part of her sleeves. Rather than let her uniform be further ruined, Sadie removed her hands from the wound and rocked back, rising to her feet. Blood coated her hands, shining in the lamp light. As the liquid slipped back down towards her fingers it began to drip from her fingertips onto the floor. Silently she held her hand out to Falsworth who gingerly gave her the towel.

Sadie was aware that every eye in the room stayed locked on her. She found it impossible to look at any of them. The sense of failure welled up in her chest, warring with her anger and guilt, cutting off her oxygen supply. Her chest shuddered as she breathed, closing and collapsing in on itself when she exhaled. There was no room for Sadie to feel the same shock that reverberated through the rest of her companions. But she was aware that she looked like something from a nightmare.

"Sadie?" It was Evelyn who found her voice first. The high-pitched tone cut through the dull roaring in Sadie's ears.

"Rigor will set in soon," she said evenly, unemotionally. Sadie began to wipe the blood off her hands. "Someone should bury him before then, when he's easier to move."

Without another word she stalked out of the house. Steve and Bucky stepped aside to let her leave. Neither man tried to stop her. Sadie walked a little ways down the path. Away from the scrutiny of everyone else, she started to vigorously scrub her hands with the towel, digging the corners into the edges of her fingernails and between her fingers. Grimacing, she rotated the towel to find clean spaces until she found none and her skin began to rub raw but the blood wouldn't come off; it had crept into the miniscule crevices in her fingers, staining her skin.

"Damnit," she growled under her breath and started scrubbing harder. The red rag just spread the mess and Sadie snapped. She flung it against the nearest tree before dropping into a crouch, pressing her forearms atop her head while she tried to put herself back together. Tears sprang into her eyelids and she fought them; she didn't even know why she was crying but the raw, visceral sound came out regardless.

"Come on, Sadie. Come on, get it together," she whispered forcefully to herself. A large hand came to her shoulder. Startled, she darted away and straightened to see Dugan standing before her. He held a clean rag in one hand and his canteen in the other. With a gentle jerk of his head he beckoned her over and he unscrewed the canteen and poured water over her trembling hands and the rag. Cool water splashed over the dirt and her boots. Dugan made to help her hands and she shook her head once, taking the canteen from him. Mechanically, she washed the remainder of the blood away and used the legs of her pants to dry her hands off. Sadie shook uncontrollably now as she came down from the adrenaline that began to sift away. Reality set in.

Dugan squeezed her shoulder once. "Take all the time you need." His voice echoed painfully between her now-throbbing temples. But she heard no derision there, not even a note of judgment that she'd momentarily lost her composure. Instead she heard compassion and Sadie was even more grateful when he said nothing else, implicitly understanding that she wasn't ready to talk. Sadie wasn't even sure she was physically able to speak at the moment.

Sadie rested her hands on her hips and nodded, catching one glimpse of him giving her a firm nod of his own before he turned away and walked back towards the house. Overhead, the cloud cover finally broke. Sunlight shattered through the pines, warming her face and her frigid hands. She gripped her father's wedding ring. Sadie imagined his deep, slow drawl and the lines that crinkled around his eyes when he smiled. So many times she wondered what he would say to her running off to war and what he thought of his daughter jumping out of airplanes, travelling with men, and encountering sights that turned the stomachs of grown men. More than anything she wanted his affectionate embrace and for him to remind her that she could do this. Instead his favorite piece of advice came to her as it often did.

"Count to five, Sade," she told herself and started the first of five deep breaths. The promise her father gave her returned to the forefront of her mind.

" _You're just as brave as I am, Sadie. One day you'll see._ "

X X X

After Sadie walked outside, nobody could move for a while. Bucky's feet were rooted to the floor, eyes wide while he tried to process the grisly sight. The prisoner lay almost spread-eagle on the dusty floor. Bucky could see the scalpel mere inches from the prisoner's hand, its blade coated with his blood. The pool that spread around him was unlike anything Bucky had seen except within the horrors of his nightmares. Every time he blinked, he felt the shock punch him in the gut. In one breath he saw the HYDRA guard splayed out and in the next he saw the blood spreading beneath Sadie, strapped down to a table while she was bled dry. It was jarring and unsettling, even more so when he saw the drops of blood on the floor that led out of the house to the thick of the trees where Sadie had undoubtedly gone to clean off her hands and clear her head.

In the end it was Steve who suggested that they get to work burying the body. Before hauling him out, they searched him. Unfortunately, they came up dry with the exception of the map marking the railroad and connected factories. The guard didn't even wear a set of dog

tags or any other identifying information.

"To make him expendable," remarked Falsworth with disgust.

While a couple of guys trudged out back to dig a hole with their small spades, Steve used his reserve chute to wrap the body. Privately, Bucky thought this was a lot more ceremony than the guard deserved but he kept his thoughts to himself. The worst part of it all was the fact that the guard didn't look a day over eighteen. Both his childish freckles and soft facial features were stark in comparison to the stomach-turning injury to his neck. Bucky would never know exactly how Sadie, or any doctor and nurse for that matter, could tell what was what beneath the flap of jagged skin. The rest of the wound was caked in sticky, congealed blood that turned almost black as it dried over the muscle and tube that he suspected was the main artery. He'd seen some fairly nasty wounds in Italy but there the action was so fast-paced he never had to linger long on the carnage. Being up close and personal with the blood and the gore only heightened his respect for every doctor and nurse he'd ever met.

The Commandos buried the guard, all pitching in to hurry the job along. During that time Bucky caught a glimpse of Sadie returning from the woods. She went straight into the house and never came back out. Evelyn brushed off Sadie's disappearance as watching over the surgical patient while she and Doctor Holmes took a much-deserved break.

Somewhere between Morita and Dernier taking over dinner duty and Dum Dum breaking out a fresh deck of cards, Bucky noticed that Sadie had disappeared. While the entire company relaxed for the remainder of the evening, Bucky ambled to Dugan's pack and dug around until he found what he was looking for. Fortunately, Dum Dum was so engrossed in his card game that he didn't notice when Bucky stole his flask of whiskey. Bucky strolled outside and sure enough, Sadie sat on the soft ground staring out towards the grassy clearing.

Both of his knees ached as he sat down next to her, resting his back against the wall with a relieved sigh. Sadie twitched just slightly in response to his arrival but she said nothing. In the steadily diminishing daylight, Bucky studied her profile. When she came to London from Italy, Bucky noticed that the subtle, softer curves of her body and face were gone. In their place her cheekbones were slightly hollowed and she was leaner and stronger. Much like himself, she'd fallen prey to the war's transformative powers. Bucky especially noticed her slender figure when she wore a dress or when he held her in his arms. The angle of her jaw was sharper, which made her eyes all the more intense. Every so often, Bucky caught a glimpse of her lingering insecurities – the way she unconsciously checked her reflection or smoothed her clothing over her narrow hips. The war changed her and now she didn't fit the mold of the curvaceous bombshell she saw in magazines but Bucky didn't care. She was here and they weren't; she was made of steel and was still as beautiful to Bucky as the day he first saw her.

"Is there any particular reason you're staring at me?" She asked in a raw and ragged voice.

"Do I need a reason?" He shot back, hoping a little levity would break her mood.

"Bucky," she warned.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to cross any lines. I just want to make sure you're doing okay."

She shrugged, rubbing her hands together. The blood was gone but she seemed to still be scrubbing it out of her nail beds and between her fingers. "I've been better."

Bucky wasn't sure why, but he half-expected her to lie to him and pretend that she was doing fine, that she was unaffected. The fact that she could tell him the truth came as a relief; Bucky wasn't sure he had the energy left to wheedle the truth out of her. Reaching into one of his pockets he produced a Hershey bar, which he held out for her. Sadie considered the offering out of the corner of her eye and then shook her head. Mildly miffed at her refusal, Bucky stowed the chocolate out of sight and went to Plan B. He held out Dugan's flask. Sadie raised an eyebrow and Bucky replied with a lopsided grin.

"It's whiskey, I lifted it off Dum Dum."

Sadie plucked the flask out of his hand and raised it to her lips, tipping it back. She winced as the cheap liquor burned its way down her throat.

"Has anyone told Sergeant Dugan he has terrible taste in liquor?" A surge of fresh affection swelled up in Bucky's lungs and he chuckled when she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I'll be sure to let him know." At last the faint hint of a smile touched her lips. Bucky remained silent now. Somewhere during the course of becoming friends and transitioning into more, Bucky learned that the best way to approach Sadie's bad moods was to wait for her to speak. Patience went a long way with her sometimes and it nearly always paid off in the end as it did when she found her voice once more.

She dug the edge of her thumbnail into the nail bed of her opposite thumb, repeating the movement back and forth. A dark, humorless chuckle escaped her lips and she shook her head in disbelief. "He and everyone else spent the whole day trying to convince me that I was going overboard, treating that prisoner the way I did. They're probably all saying that I'm too soft to do this."

Bucky had heard a few whispers among his friends about Sadie but soft was not in their vocabulary. "Sadie, you put your bare hands on that guard's wounds and tried to save him. You were the only one in the room who didn't look away when he started choking. I should know, I was looking at everyone else but him when that happened. The guys aren't calling you soft. They're impressed and a little intimidated by you, to be honest."

Judging from the way she raised her eyebrows in grim acknowledgement, Bucky was certain she'd heard that before. A cool gust of wind came down the hill and over the field; it ruffled Bucky's hair and blew the sweet scent of the grass into his face. While Sadie continued to gather her thoughts and stew over the past few hours, Bucky contented himself with conjuring a different image of a field. During their meandering conversations, she'd told him about her home in Little Rock, about her house outside of the city and the rolling fields. Bucky, who had never seen the country, liked to rib her about going to her house when they got home and how he'd probably die from the shock of so much open land. For a precious little while Sadie dropped her business-like demeanor and laughed, promising she'd convert him in the end with sweet tea and lazy Sunday afternoons spent on the wrap-around porch. When he opened his eyes he remembered that, while they were together, they were a far cry from the Arkansas countryside and Sadie was nowhere near her usual spitfire self. At last she spoke, toying with her father's wedding ring.

"It was my fault." At last, they'd arrived at the heart of Sadie's troubles. Bucky half-expected as much. After all, it was her scalpel that delivered the death blow, just an arm's reach away from the guard. He could see where her guilt originated; if not for her instruments on the table the guard never would have taken his life and so on and so forth. But Bucky knew better than anyone how dangerous that logic was. Of he applied it to every soldier under his command that died, he'd probably never sleep again.

"It's not your fault," he said and spoke up again over Sadie's beginning protests. "It's not." The firmness of his conviction stopped Sadie from arguing further. Her iron eyes held him expectantly, waiting for any justification that would assuage her guilt. "Nobody briefed you about the possibility that a prisoner would kill himself. Hell, Sadie we didn't have enough intelligence to know that would be a regular practice. And nobody is blaming you for what happened. You were doing your job, Sade. You're used to being able to keep your medical kits open while you work and something tells me that if your scalpel hadn't been in reach the bastard would have found another way to off himself."

Wetness touched her lower eyelids and she looked away, reminding Bucky strongly of a petulant child. "What's the point of having an aide team on missions if we're batting at fifty percent?"

To hell with protocol, thought Bucky. Placing his hand on her knee, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "Because if it had been me or Steve or Dugan or any of the other guys, you would have a grateful patient on your hands. You're here because I'm positive that one day we're gonna need you for one of us. And between Doc Holmes, Evelyn, and you there is literally nobody else on the planet that me or any of the guys would rather have. That's why you're here."

Sadie pursed her lips together to prevent her tiny smile but Bucky could see her eyes warm over, melting into their usual stormy state. She placed her hand atop his. "I don't deserve you, buck sergeant."

Bucky grinned now. "I'm going to remember you said that the next time you get mad at me." Finally, the worst of her bad mood broke and she gently shoved his shoulder. Bucky stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing one ankle over the other. They sat separated in renewed silence but Bucky could feel the tension humming between them; it practically radiated off Sadie. "What else is bothering you?"

"It's something that both Dugan and the civilian said, that the guard didn't deserve saving. Do you think that's true?"

"Will I upset you if I say yes?" Bucky wondered.

"No," she replied. "At this point I guess I shouldn't be surprised. And I think part of me wants to feel that way about these HYDRA soldiers. I mean, they've killed so many people and very nearly took you from me. So I don't know, maybe you're right. Maybe they don't deserve to be saved."

Bucky turned Dugan's flask over in his hand, contemplating her speech and trying not to focus on the way she referred to him so possessively. "So, why don't you?"

"That guard was practically still a child." Bucky's stomach clenched uncomfortably. "And when I looked at him I couldn't help but think he was somebody's son and he wasn't born that way. Did he join because he believed in the cause? Was he forced into believing it? Could his beliefs have been changed?" She shook her head and plucked a few blades of long grass up, meticulously twisting and shredding them between her fingernails. "My father taught me that every life has value and so I think I have to believe that he could be saved, that he was worth saving."

"I think that's a good thing," Bucky said to Sadie's surprise.

"Why?"

"Because at least one of us should feel that way." Bucky didn't need to finish his thought for Sadie to get the picture and thankfully she didn't push the issue further. "Anything else rolling around in that pretty head of yours?"

Sadie shrugged. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," he warned. "You can talk to me, Sade."

"It's more of a question for you, I guess."

"Okay, shoot."

"I've seen men die before from worse wounds. I've felt the life leave their bodies but it was never like that. I'm used to men fighting for every breath. You can't imagine the crying and begging, how many boys call out for their mothers in the end and how much they wanted to live." Sadie reached over and plucked the flask from Bucky's hand. He felt wooden and he could hear the cries at night in row after row of cells. Clenching his hands at his sides he tried to quell the surge of fear that rose bitterly in his throat. "No matter how it ended, the thing is that all my previous patients wanted to live. The wanted it so badly and this guard couldn't have cared less whether he lived or died just so long as he served his cause. And I can't understand it." She took another long swig from the flask. Bucky accepted the flask again and hastily followed her lead, wincing when the cheap whiskey burned his throat. He had no words of comfort for her but he could already guess the question coming.

"You said it yourself, Sade. He was probably forced into following HYDRA and didn't know any different."

"It's more than that," she argued. "It's committing yourself to a cause so completely that you'd die without a second thought. Would you die for what you're doing?"

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. They'd never talked about the very real possibility that one or both of them could die on these missions or that he'd had his fair share of close calls in Italy. There were some things that he didn't want to acknowledge with Sadie because talking about them made all of it too real. He remembered the aching, horrible pain when he even thought of the possibility that she died during the bombing of the 80th and that was before they even fell in love. Bucky vividly recalled the tears streaming down her cheeks when he and Steve marched into base camp after the factory fell and the tinge of desperation that colored every kiss they shared. How could Bucky tell Sadie the last thing he wanted was to die when that wasn't entirely true? He couldn't look at her, not when Bucky saw a truth in himself that she would never understand.

Bucky was ready and willing to die for this. The fire that burned in his muscles and kept pushing him forward was in part fueled by the desire to find Doctor Zola and kill him along with the desire to use that fire to burn every shred of HYDRA's existence to the ground. He would gladly die if it meant protecting the people he loved most in this world - Steve, his family, and Sadie all included. But he couldn't find the right way to explain the depth of his convictions, not in a way that Sadie was ready to hear. Maybe when she had time to process his answer and maybe when he was ready to talk about his ordeal, but for now the simple answer would have to suffice.

"Yes."

When it became painfully apparent to Sadie that Bucky wasn't going to elaborate on his answer, she clambered to her feet. She brushed her fingers gently through his hair, leaving him with the deep ache to sweep her back down into his arms and kiss away every word of this painful conversation.

"I'm going to check up on Pietrek." Her voice was as hard and emotionless as the stone wall of the house supporting his back. "Don't stay out too long, it's starting to get cold."

Bucky nodded in agreement but he stayed outside alone for another hour. There were too many demons alive in his mind to let him sleep and he was too numb to feel the cold anyway.

 **A/N: This was a big chapter for a lot of reasons and there were some decisions that I struggled with. But, canonically, we know that every HYDRA prisoner up until Zola has committed suicide and the guard's death was a critical milestone for Sadie's character development as we will see in coming chapters. As always I am happy to discuss my creative decision-making process and answer any questions!**

 **Fortunately, next chapter serves up some nice fluff along with the lead into Normandy which is where the Commandos and Co. are headed next!**

 **As always – I love and live for your feedback! Much love – Kappa.**


	22. Songbirds and Lessons

**A/N: I'm alive! There's a whole laundry list of reasons I haven't updated but part of it is I ended up re-tooling the outline for the next several chapters and the short story is I'm no longer going to write Normandy we're going to do something totally different.**

 **This chapter, however, is a much-needed break from the drama and action and is basically a love letter to this couple that I dearly love writing. It's a glimpse into Sadie and Bucky as they could be if not for the war and I'm super nervous about it but also really excited for you to read it. Much love to Mopargirl1 who listened to my incessant complaining and Stencil Your Heart for being a wonderful beta and all around lovely human being!**

 **Warnings – in case you didn't already notice the rating for this story finally jumped to M and there's a reason for that. The usual language warnings apply too!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Cap**_ **, but if I did…**

 **Chapter 22 - Songbirds and Lessons**

Sadie had never noticed the flecks of gold in Doctor Holmes' hazel eyes. The wire-rimmed glasses he wore tended to take up most of her attention and when she did look at him, it was usually to notice the dark circles that seemed to be permanent fixtures beneath his eyes. She decided she liked the additional depth, making him appear much closer to his thirty-two years of age than he tended to look these days. An expectant light shone in his eyes, reflecting behind his glasses lenses while he glanced down at the book in his hands and then back up at Sadie. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the cover while he waited for her to respond.

A fuzziness had settled in Sadie's brain as she tried to travel to the compartment there that held the information she needed to recall. The list was there, buried somewhere amidst the jumble of medical knowledge she'd accumulated over the last year. Was the answer nestled among the running list of stitches she knew? Perhaps hiding in her ability to do the fast mental math of correct dosage to weight ratio for patients? What about in the lexicon of crude terms she'd learned for venereal diseases since joining the Army? And then, it came to her. Snapping her fingers in recognition, she pointed triumphantly at Doctor Holmes.

"General pain, numbness of the hands and feet, nausea, vomiting, uncoordinated eye movement, confusion, loss of muscle or paralysis in the legs, eventual coma, and death," she rattled off the symptoms she'd been looking for, much to Doctor Holmes' delight.

"Very good, Nurse Reid. There are three distinct types of Beriberi; these symptoms indicate which type?"

"Dry Beriberi," she answered confidently. "Also referred to as Endemic Neuritis. Caused by a Vitamin B deficiency and most commonly seen in the Southwest Pacific."

Doctor Holmes' praise was drowned out by a groan. Both Sadie and the doctor swiveled their attention to Evelyn who lounged across an empty patient bed. She rest her chin on her hands atop the painted iron footboard and her red hair stood out vividly beneath her white nurse's cap. "Honestly Sade, did you memorize the whole book?"

"No," she retorted with a frown, though both women knew this was mostly a lie. The textbook in Doctor Holmes' hands had been Sadie's constant companion for the last week whether in the field or back in London. _Tropical Diseases and Treatment_ was the fifth medical textbook that Sadie had devoured that summer. She started with a practicum of bacteriology before moving onto various books that addressed not only the types of diseases that were common in the Western world but also that were cropping up in the Pacific.

Doctor Holmes, who had given Sadie every single textbook, openly encouraged her pursuit of deeper knowledge. During their downtime on missions or on their commonly slow shifts at the hospital, he ventured from his private office to quiz Sadie on her knowledge and to discuss various signs for diagnoses and treatment techniques that had evolved since the publication of the admittedly older books. Sadie, who had always enjoyed school, drank up the knowledge like a child with a milkshake and already it had come in handy more than once when treating the civilian population of the tiny French villages they'd seen in the month and a half since the Allies stormed the beaches in Normandy.

The mild disappointment Doctor Holmes felt over Evelyn seeming uninclined to follow Sadie's academic footsteps was easily drowned out by the accomplishments of his pupil. He reached across the desk where he and Sadie sat facing each other and patted her hand. Sadie smiled at him and rest her chin in her hand. She wanted to keep going but Evelyn's interruption derailed their progress, followed in short order by the grunt of one of her patients.

Rising to her feet, Sadie drifted down the ward to where Agent Lucas Murphy slept. He was one of three patients in the entire SSR ward and was still recovering from his injuries sustained in a reconnaissance mission gone horribly wrong. At his bedside, Sadie could see he was twitching in his sleep and his face was contorted in pain. As carefully as possible, she pulled back the covers to reveal his partially bare chest, covered by thick white bandages. No blood seeped through the pads, which was a good sign. She'd only changed the bandages and gauze, soaked in antiseptic, at the start of her shift at five o'clock that morning. But Sadie knew there was very little she could do for the lingering pain that came with the still-healing open wound and burns that littered his left side.

"I know," she said gently while she replaced the blankets. With the tenderness of a mother caring for her sick child, she smoothed her fingers across his forehead, sweeping back his dark hair. Agent Murphy stilled in his sleep, perhaps coming out of the dream that provoked his pain. Sadie stayed at his bedside for a moment longer and when she felt assured that he was sleeping soundly once more, she returned to the desk.

"He's going to be in pain for a long time to come," said Doctor Holmes with a frown, his eyes locked on the patient he'd helped treat.

"He's lucky," said Sadie thinking about the fate of his partner who, according to the report, bled out slowly to death from the same explosion. A darkness passed behind her eyes, one that her friends saw and she felt. The faint shadow on her heart had been her constant companion since their first real mission with the SSR and she found herself trying to save the life of a HYDRA guard so devoted to his mission that he slit his own throat in a room full of people.

In the eight missions she'd run with the Commandos since then, Sadie had seen four more suicides in person and stumbled upon the aftermath of two more. She'd treated more civilians screaming in languages she couldn't understand and stitched up wounds on Dum Dum, Jim Morita, Gabe Jones, and Jacques Dernier. Travelling with the Howling Commandos wasn't nearly as glamorous as the papers liked to make it out to be. Sadie had seen more than one town reduced to rubble. The wild adventure of it all more than made up for the more gruesome aspects in the eyes of her companions but Sadie didn't always feel the same. More and more often she'd been woken by the grisly images surfacing in her sleep from the depths of her mind where she locked them away.

Evelyn's voice withdrew Sadie from her reverie once more. "You know what? When we joined the SSR I didn't think working at their hospital would be quite this boring."

Sadie's mouth dropped open in surprise. She felt properly scandalized by the statement. "Evelyn," she snapped more harshly than perhaps necessary. "There are patients in this ward."

"Three of them, one of which is yours," she looked over to Agent Murphy. "The other two of which have food poisoning and syphilis. Not exactly the same thrill as being at the field hospital day in and day out. Sometimes I wonder if this is what life is going to be like when we go home. Do you think we're going to be bored forever after the war ends?"

Sadie didn't have the heart or the backbone to point out that Evelyn would probably quit nursing the second she got married. The redhead, while an excellent nurse, always seemed to be looking for what came next in her life and she wasn't attached to the practice of medicine the way Sadie was. "I think that all depends on you."

"You wouldn't have to leave the Army after the war ends," said Doctor Holmes knowledgably. "I'm sure they'll want to keep their best and brightest if they can. Plus, I doubt the SSR would say no to having qualified medical personnel on staff full time after all of this ends."

He made eye contact with Sadie who shrugged her narrow shoulders. "We'll all have options, I'm sure of that much."

Then Doctor Holmes said something that surprised her. "Have you considered medical school, Sadie?"

"I beg your pardon?" She tried very hard not to splutter in her shock.

"I don't know why you're so surprised I'm bringing it up," said Doctor Holmes, his voice laced with mild amusement. "You've taken to these studies like a fish to water and some of it is not easy stuff. With your credentials from the war and recommendations from the likes of Colonel Phillips and Howard Stark I bet you could go anywhere you wanted."

Sadie remained too stunned to speak and Evelyn interjected on her behalf, musing in a faraway voice. "Doctor Sadie Reid. Hmm, sounds very official and intimidating. Although after the war it'll probably be more like Doctor Sadie Barnes."

A faint blush swirled into Sadie's cheeks. Despite wasting more than her fair share of time imagining marrying Bucky in a quaint chapel while wearing a white lace dress, she'd never actually heard her name joined with his aloud before. She turned her eyes to her lap where she folded her hands on her white uniform skirt. "There's no guarantee that will happen."

Of all people, Doctor Holmes snorted in laughter. Both women goggled at him and he rolled his eyes up towards the tiled ceiling. "I dare you two to produce a man more obviously and hopelessly in love with a woman than Bucky is with you, Sadie."

At once Sadie and Evelyn said the same name. "Captain Rogers."

"Well, I'll grant you that one," said Doctor Holmes through his laughter, obviously thinking of Steve's poorly hidden infatuation with Agent Peggy Carter. Sadie privately wanted to point out that the good doctor wasn't much better; she was beginning to think he would quietly pine for Evelyn forever.

"Now that I'm thinking about it, I can't even remember the last time we saw Steve or the rest of the Commandos. How long has it been?" Evelyn's question was meant for the both of them and Doctor Holmes gave the rough estimate of three weeks.

In reality, it had been three weeks, two days, and four hours at the airfield in Ipswich when the Howling Commandos left for a brief reconnaissance mission while Sadie's aide team left for France. Sadie knew keeping such thorough track was a rather childish thing to do but she couldn't be bothered to care. The last glimpse she'd had of Bucky was the smile and wink he gave her just before he ducked onto the C-47. For the whole later half of June and all of July, the Commandos had been running missions out of Kiev to destroy several remaining key bridges, railways, and smaller HYDRA outposts to devastate the eastern half of its European operation before turning to the western half. The missions were generally too fast-paced to necessitate an entire aide team and base of operations, especially when the need for emergency medical aide was far greater in France where the Allies were pushing against the strength of Hitler's western line. The SSR had spent the summer sending its multiple aide teams and agents to embattled units all across the front line in Europe. For a period of several weeks, Sadie's team had dropped into France, returned to London for short de-briefings and a night or two of rest before heading back to a different small town on the patchwork countryside to reach places that conventional field hospitals simply couldn't. In the weeks after the massive invasion at Normandy, Sadie had been with her team to four different units from three different countries and treated more grateful wounded soldiers than she could count.

Only two days earlier her team had come in from lending support to the U.S. 4th Armored Division as they took Coutances. After three straight days of treating Allied soldiers, civilians, and prisoners of war, Sadie thought she would drop dead from exhaustion. When their plane landed in Ipswich, Peggy was waiting for them with new assignments back to the hospital until further notice. Sadie supposed working at the hospital was boring compared to the action they saw in the field, but she welcomed the respite. She would take one wounded but stable agent over comforting dying soldiers any day of the week.

"Sadie?" Doctor Holmes interrupted her thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"I asked if you know when they're coming back. I know Peggy tends to give you more details than us mere mortals over here," said Evelyn, a wicked grin playing at her cherry red lips.

"They're supposed to be back tomorrow night," replied Sadie now thinking about Bucky who, if he wasn't already in the air headed back to London, would be soon.

"You must be excited."

Excited didn't even begin to cover it, thought Sadie, biting back a wistful sigh. There were no words to accurately convey how she felt about their three week separation, the longest since she'd come to London. How could Sadie tell Evelyn that she transcended excitement into outright longing, a burn she carried with her everywhere she went? She certainly couldn't admit that when she fell asleep at night it was imagining she was curled up in Bucky's arms. Perhaps Sadie was too good at hiding her real feelings from the world but that didn't discount the fact that in spite of everything the war had thrown at her over the last year, she'd also never been this happy. Evelyn liked to make jokes about Sadie and Bucky's wedding but the redhead had no clue that Sadie was already making mental plans that ranged from the flowers she'd put in bridesmaids bouquets to where she and Bucky would actually live when they got home.

"Of course I'm excited," said Sadie dismissively, not quite able to meet Evelyn's eyes. "If he were here right now I'd probably even kiss him in front of you both."

That was an admission that did surprise Evelyn and she let out a low whistle. "You must really miss him then," she said in reference to Sadie's notorious preference for privacy in her relationship. "I think you ought to throw all caution to the wind and throw yourself into his arms."

"I'm hardly the type," noted Sadie. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Doctor Holmes rolling his eyes at the banality of the conversation.

"I don't believe that for a second," argued Evelyn.

"And I can't believe I'm listening to this conversation," muttered the doctor. Sadie hazarded an apologetic grin and Evelyn changed the subject.

Sadie didn't want to admit that Evelyn had a point though. Bucky loved every and any opportunity he could get to wrangle her into his arms, whether it was in the privacy of one of their preferred hiding spots or simply walking down the street when they were off duty. He loved to wrap his arms round her waist and walk behind her, gumming up their steps until she tripped and he had to lift her back up to her feet, laughing the whole time. Bucky also equally enjoyed sneaking up behind her and scaring her out of her wits just so he could bend her back and kiss her before she could stop him.

As the clock ticked ever closer to five o'clock in the evening and the end of Sadie's shift, she checked beds and let herself think happily about the following night. The clock hit five minutes until five and she packed up her bag, including the medical textbook that she would pour over later that night. Doctor Holmes returned to reviewing patient charts for the last two hours of his shift while Evelyn, whose shift overlapped with Sadie's by an hour, disappeared to the restroom one final time.

Assured that the ward was left in good order, Sadie pulled the pins from her hair that held her white hat in place. She tucked it away into her bag just when the door to the ward opened. The clock had one minute left to go until five o'clock when a voice drifted down the ward.

"Excuse me, but I'm looking for the prettiest nurse in the whole damn Army, maybe you've seen her?"

Sadie whirled around and clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her shriek of delight. Bucky waggled his eyebrows humorously from beneath his peaked cap as he strolled into the ward, hands in his pockets. Three weeks, two days, and four hours was far too long to not have seen his twinkling blue eyes and devil-may-care smile in person. Bucky wore his Class A's correctly for once in his life and Sadie privately thought that he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life in that olive jacket, now decorated with multiple accolades from his work with the SSR.

"You're back early!" She exclaimed and had to stop herself from dashing down the main aisle.

Bucky's grin widened as he realized she was holding back until her shift ended at precisely five o'clock. They'd done this many times before, where he was forced to wait until Sadie was officially off duty. He'd promised her that he liked the joke and was always game to play along. She stopped right before him, drinking in his broad shoulders that led down to a tapered waist, highlighted by the cut of his uniform.

"I didn't know we would be but I figured it'd be a good surprise."

"It's the best surprise," she said and didn't object when he relieved her of her bag, slinging it on his shoulder. She reached down and took his hands. Together they watched the final seconds tick by on the clock and when it finally struck five o'clock, she smiled up into his handsome face. "Well?"

"Well, what?" He teased.

"Kiss me, soldier," she commanded and let out a shout of laughter when he pulled her against him and dipped her back.

"With pleasure!" He then planted the kind of kiss on her lips that took the oxygen right out of her lungs and left her gripping his jacket to keep herself from spilling onto the floor in a puddle. Sadie so seldom allowed him to kiss her in front of other people that he took the charge seriously and they were still kissing quite passionately when a voice barked down the ward.

"Nurse Reid! Fraternizing with a non-commissioned officer in the middle of a hospital ward? I ought to have you both court-martialed!"

"Oh shut up, Evelyn!" She called out when Bucky pulled back. She took Bucky's face in her hands and brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones. "Welcome back, buck sergeant."

"It's good to be back." And then he wrapped her in a bear hug, hoisting her off the floor. Sadie swept his peaked cap off his head and kissed the top of his head. Evelyn was still laughing when Bucky carried Sadie out of the ward while she perched the peaked cap atop her head.

X X X

Two days after Bucky surprised Sadie at the hospital, she stood outside the SSR quarters, squinting into the sunshine. Just in time for their first seventy-two hour pass since before Normandy, the rain cleared out and bathed the city in warmth and sunshine. Overhead a few puffy clouds dotted the otherwise pristine sky and Sadie couldn't wait to fully enjoy the next two days. The golden sunshine spilled over the streets, forcing its way into the spaces between buildings and casting the city into stunning relief. From behind the dark lenses of her round sunglasses, she watched and waited for a sign of Bucky. Sadie was surprised to see so many passersby smiling. She wondered what errands they were running on such a fine Friday and whether their spirits were as high as hers.

Her grey eyes swept up and down the street, checking for any sign of her date. Bucky promised to pick her up at ten-thirty sharp so they could spend the rest of their day together. With no immediate sign of Bucky, however, Sadie took the extra moment to smooth the collar of her blue floral dress and check that the buttons were all done correctly from the top all the way down the front. Bucky had been surprisingly elusive when discussing their day-long date, particularly when it came to where they were going and how they were going to get there. Knowing Bucky he'd show up on a motorcycle, completely oblivious to the havoc the wind would wreak on her hair, telling her excitedly about how much she was going to love the thrill of the ride. In anticipation of such an event, she'd braided her long hair and twisted it into a pretty coil at the nape of her neck. The mystery made preparing difficult, though after eight months Sadie was long-used to Bucky's surprises.

Absently, she touched the fine silver chain she wore along with her dog tags. Fishing out the chain, she slipped her fingers down to her father's wedding ring which hung next to a rather pretty silver charm of a bird. Bucky gave her the charm shortly before they both shipped out on their separate missions for the invasion at Normandy. In part the bird charm was something of a private joke they shared and a nickname Bucky started using ever since Dum Dum Dugan drunkenly convinced her to sit down and sing at the pub while he played piano. Though Sadie was no Jo Stafford, she could carry a tune and her voice was pretty enough that Bucky started calling her his songbird, which irritated her to no end. In part, the charm itself was also a reminder to Sadie of Bucky of his love for her. After all, he'd pointed out that he had her Saint Christopher's medal. It was only fair she carry something to remember him by. The songbird charm had been just as surprising as the flowers Bucky gave her on her twenty-fourth birthday in May or the notes he liked to slide under her door whenever the mood moved him, including a page he'd torn from a daily calendar commemorating the day they'd med at the NYPOE.

And here she was just over a year later, waiting for the man in question to appear to whisk her off to enjoy their passes with no interference from the rest of their friends or the Army for that matter. Squinting her eyes behind her sunglasses, she just started to consider waiting inside the cool lobby of the building when a shining car turned the corner. The convertible was shiny red and turned more than one head on the street. Even Sadie, who knew next to nothing about cars, could tell it was expensive and the peak of luxury driving. Which was why her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline when she identified the driver.

Bucky spied her on the street and he grinned from behind his dark aviator sunglasses. He pulled the car off to the curb next to her, one of his arms stretched across the back bench. Sadie crossed her arms over her chest and tried her hardest not to laugh.

"Hey doll," he teased, knowing how much she hated that nickname. "Going my way?"

Sadie decided to give into his game and she sauntered up to the car, placing both of her hands on the door. "Could be. That all depends on where you're going and whether or not you stole this car."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. His energy was barely containable as he hauled his body out of the driver's seat and jogged around to the passenger's side. "It's Howard's," he admitted. Instead of opening the door, his hands found her sides and she smiled when he walked her right up against the side of the convertible. "Turns out he really does have more money than God and wanted to take pity on a poor guy trying to impress his girl."

"Quite the philanthropist is he," she joked before peering over her shoulder to the backseat. A sturdy wicker basket sat there atop a folded blanket.

"I thought you wouldn't mind getting out of the city for a bit," he murmured in her ear, his lips brushing past her skin. A pleasant shiver slithered down her spine and when she turned her head back to reply, she purposely caught his lips in a grateful kiss.

"It's like you can read my mind, buck sergeant."

"I know. I think I'm starting to get pretty good at it." As he spoke, he reached around her, pressing his firm body against hers so he could reach the door handle. "How's that for gentleman-like?"

"Absolutely awful,' she replied but rewarded his bad behavior anyway, winking at him over her shoulder as she got into the car.

Bucky returned to the driver's seat and revved the engine back to life. "I guess I've still got a lot to learn if I'm going to impress your mother when we make it back home."

It was Sadie's turn to laugh. Over the past four months she'd started sharing with Bucky particularly amusing excerpts from her mother's letters home. Norma's writing conveyed so many emotions at once, including the absolute joy she held for her daughter finally falling in love which warred heavily with her anxiety over the fact that Sadie's chosen partner happened to be a young man from New York. As far as Norma was concerned, New York was another universe altogether and already Sadie had been the recipient of more than one guilt-trip and not-so-subtle poke that she was expected to bring her beau home to Little Rock as soon as practicably possible.

Upon realizing that he would actually be required to travel to Arkansas, Bucky started to feel pressure he never had before to measure up to parental expectation. Sadie's mild amusement at the situation didn't make matters much better but when she caught him actually reading a book on proper table etiquette she realized he was dead serious about making a good impression for the first time in his life. So she set out to teach him the things he would need to know when entering the lion's den of southern society. These days he knew the proper way to introduce other people and which fork to use for which course and could even turn Sadie in a serviceable waltz, though he would always prefer the type of dancing that allowed him to hold her as close as possible.

"Speaking of letters from home, there's one from Rebecca in the basket." Bucky grinned at Sadie's unrestrained delight and he had to playfully grasp the back of her dress and pull her back down into her seat to keep her from reaching for it before they left. "I haven't read it yet so I thought we could read it together."

He pulled away from the curb and they were off, zipping through the city traffic until at last they came out of the buildings and suburbs and burst into the lush countryside. As he drove, Bucky kept a casual arm across the back of the bench, rubbing his thumb along the back of her exposed neck every so often. Sadie soaked up his touch and watched the countryside roll by, drinking in the gorgeous views and glimpses that she got every so often of enormous country manors that transported her back in time. She was daydreaming about Jane Austen when Bucky turned the car down a narrow lane and started on a path that eventually took them to a truly gorgeous piece of heaven tucked fifteen minutes away from a tiny village.

A beautiful grove of trees overlooked a brook that babbled along lazily, making lovely background music when Sadie got out of the car. A stone bridge ran over the brook that opened to another grove where a building sat, an extremely old chapel that she suspected was long abandoned. White wildflowers grew unchecked in bushes between the trees, releasing a sweet perfume that combined with the summery air into an intoxicating perfume that reminded her of home if she closed her eyes. She wandered to the edge of the water to look in either direction where she could see the trees eventually opened to heavenly green fields. Overhead the clouds passed by lazily.

"Bucky, this is beautiful. How did you find it?" She called back to where he unfurled the blanket on a flat piece of ground just beneath the shade of the trees.

He looked thoroughly satisfied with himself. "Turns out one of the runners who works in the bunker grew up in the village down the road. I think he used to take his girls down here."

"I can see why," mused Sadie approvingly. "It's pretty close to perfect."

A rare sense of total comfort settled over her. There, tucked away from the rest of the world, she could forget about the war and missions and the constant threat that hung over her head and Bucky's. She kicked off her shoes and buried her bare toes in the cool grass, happy she'd chosen to let the precious two pairs of nylons she owned take a breather for the day. Methodically, she pulled the pins from her hair and unspun the long strands until soft waves unfurled over her shoulders. Dumping her head upside down, she shook the loose curls out before settling them over her shoulders. Bucky was staring at her when she straightened up, not bothering to hide his hungry expression. Sadie decided she liked the way he looked at her, lips gently parted and whole body square to hers. She could just barely see his pulse jumping beneath his jaw, bared by the top buttons of his shirt he left undone.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Sade," he warned. Sadie lapped up the slightly strained note in his voice. Perhaps it was wrong but she took personal satisfaction in knowing she had such an impact on him even a year later.

Bucky watched the sway of her hips as she sauntered back to him. "So," she said on an inhale, grasping his shirt at his sides. Bucky was clearly prepared to for her to come onto him, his chest hitched slightly in anticipation. "There's a letter from Rebecca in that basket?"

He deflated but wasn't disappointed. Bucky actually encouraged the bond that Sadie and his little sister were rapidly forming through his letters to and from home. When Bucky wrote home to tell his family that he'd met someone, Rebecca replied back with a three page masterpiece of a letter chock full of questions and a lecture that could put his mother to shame, warning him to be a gentleman. Upon receiving it, Sadie giggled mercilessly at Rebecca's warning words before perching herself in Bucky's lap, answering Rebecca's questions as he wrote his reply. From that point on every single one of Bucky's letters from Rebecca contained an entire section devoted to learning more about Sadie, the woman who had finally gotten her brother to settle down.

Together they unpacked the modest spread he'd prepared including a bottle of wine that she suspected came courtesy of Howard Stark. Sadie reclined across the blanket, nibbling on cheese and drinking wine as Bucky read Rebecca's letter aloud.

X X X

"You've really never done it before? Never?"

"I really haven't."

"I don't believe you," said Bucky sitting up suddenly from where he lay with his head in Sadie's lap. Annoyed that he'd dislodged her hand from his thick hair, Sadie cracked an eye open, glaring at him. She'd been perfectly comfortable resting her back against the trunk of a large tree, threading her fingers through Bucky's hair.

"Have I ever lied to you?" She enquired.

"Well, no," he conceded, twisting his body so his shoulders pulled taught against his white undershirt. His olive drab shirt lay forgotten on the far corner of the blanket, having been shed in light of the warm afternoon. "But still, it's kind of hard to believe you've never thrown a baseball in your life. Rebecca can throw a mean curveball. Didn't you play pickup games when you were a kid?"

A wry smile touched her lips. "My closest neighbors lived half a mile away and I'd have to double-check but I think curveballs aren't on the list of required skills every debutant must learn before her first white glove cotillion."

Bucky smirked, latching onto the information about her southern roots. "You didn't really attend one of those did you?"

"I've probably attended half a dozen of them," she murmured, unabashed by her background. "There are probably photographs somewhere."

"Remind me to ask your mother when I meet her." Bucky spun himself around to sit cross-legged, toying with the cork from the now-empty wine bottle. "Now I wish I had a ball with me, you should definitely learn. It's sort of a rite of passage where I grew up." He mimicked throwing a baseball.

Sadie drew one of her legs up so she could drape one of her arms across her knee. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this loose and comfortable. It seemed that she'd forgotten a world existed where there were no planes roaring overhead or that the world came in shades of green other than olive drab. As the minutes ticked into hours and the sun shifted across the sky, she couldn't imagine being on a better date and that included the ones Bucky had already taken her on. The deliciously lazy afternoon brought out the best version of what they shared, of their banter and chemistry that defined so much of their relationship. Sadie answered all of Rebecca's latest string of questions, teaching Bucky a few more things he didn't already know about her. For a while he slept with his head lodged in her lap while she read a book she'd brought in her bag. Turning the pages proved to be difficult when he drifted off with his hands pinning one of hers over his chest but she wouldn't have moved it for the world; Sadie's favorite rhythm in the world was the steady beat of Bucky's strong heart.

But now they were talking about Brooklyn based on a line in Rebecca's letter about how excited she was to finally meet Sadie in person. Sadie couldn't quite remember how they'd gotten on the subject of baseball but he'd been thoroughly scandalized to discover she'd never thrown one in her life. Sadie also didn't have the heart to tell Bucky she wasn't particularly interested in learning how to throw a baseball.

"What did you learn growing up? Aside from what fork to use and all that junk," Bucky asked reaching out for her.

Sadie obliged him, grasping his hands and letting him twist her body around so she settled between his open legs, against his chest. This was a familiar spot with them, one of Bucky's favorite ways to hold her close and her head fell into its natural spot on his shoulder. Their fingers twisted together while she toyed with one of his hands.

"I learned how to ride a bicycle and how to ride a horse."

He snorted in laughter. "Get out, you know how to ride a horse?"

Sadie pinched the back of his hand. "Of course I do," she said as though this were obvious. "I got my first pony when I turned six and have been riding ever since. My father loved to ride and we would go out on the mornings he didn't have to work at the hospital."

That admission wasn't so funny. A shadow of sadness passed over her and she turned to pillow her cheek against Bucky's collar. "I wish I could have met him."

"He would have liked you. I think he was always afraid I'd end up falling for some stuffed shirt who would take my freedom away from me. He would have liked that you let me be myself."

Bucky pressed a fiercely protective kiss to her forehead. "I wouldn't have you any other way." Sadie knew he meant it. "Just do me a favor and don't tell Rebecca about the horse. The last thing I need is for her to go on about how she wants a pony too."

Their mutual laughter rose up to the trees above them. Sadie noticed that the clouds were starting to move in, obscuring most of their perfect blue sky. Bucky followed the line of her gaze and he scowled. "I should probably put the roof of the car up."

Regretfully, they disentangled from each other and while Bucky wrestled with the soft-top roof, Sadie wandered back down to the water's edge. The brook was moving slower than it had been and she fished along the bank until she found a smooth, flat stone. Talking about childhood lessons and skills dredged up another of her favorite childhood games. Lining up her aim, she cocked her wrist just right and gave it a hard pop. The stone released, skipping three times over the smoothest part of the water before disappearing into the shallow depths. She found another stone and repeated the action, pleased to get another three bounces in.

Warm hands spanned across her hips. "I learned this when I was a kid too."

"You father?" He asked and she shook her head with a playful grin.

"My mother, actually. She and her sisters had competitions when they were little girls. Do you know how?"

Bucky stepped away and puffed his chest up only to shake his head. "I don't."

Her face scrunched up with amusement but she wisely kept her laughter to herself. "Not a lot of ponds in Brooklyn, I guess." She held up the other stone in her hand and jerked her head for him to stand at the water's edge. Moving behind him, she positioned the stone in his hand. "It's all in the wrist. You've got to give it enough speed to keep moving over the water. So it's just like-" she mimicked the motion with his hand.

Bucky followed her directions and watched the stone skip twice. "Well it's no baseball game."

Sadie rolled her eyes. "You and baseball, I swear. What's so great about watching a bunch of guys running around in a circle?"

"What's so great about getting your brains rattled on a horse?" Bucky challenged.

He'd opened the door and Sadie couldn't let the opportunity slide. Shrugging, she started to amble away under the guise of looking for another stone. "In your case that wouldn't be much of a problem, would it?"

Sadie took off running in the millisecond it took Bucky to process her insult. He yelled at her to stop as she streaked along the bank, her dark hair unfurling behind her like a banner. Bucky chased her shouting his indignance and as he reached her she neatly ducked beneath his arms and darted sharply to the side. The tips of his fingers slipped over her skirt as she sprinted away and started for the bridge. One arm and then another locked around her waist. Sadie shrieked in laughter when he lifted her clean off her feet, swinging her around.

"You're a pain in my ass, Reid. I ever tell you that?" His Brooklyn accent came on thick and she loved it.

"Takes one to know one," she taunted as she tried to wriggle her way out of his arms. He shouted when she pinched the side of his leg and took advantage of the shock to dash the rest of the way to the bridge, stepping lightly over the stones to the other side. When she whirled around to find him, he stood on the other side, bracing his hands on the stones. She mirrored his pose.

"Huge tactical mistake," he pointed out. "I'm over here with the car and you've got nothing. I could leave you behind if I wanted to."

Sadie narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

They both knew she was right but that didn't stop Bucky from producing the keys and twirling them loosely around his finger. "I'm thinkin' about it."

Laughter bubbled up from her lungs, spilling over and onto the bridge. She doubled over, clutching her stomach with one hand. When Bucky asked her what was so funny she couldn't speak for a moment longer. "I'm sorry! I'm just imagining the lecture you'd get from Steve if you left me here!"

Words like 'honor' and 'upstanding' came to mind along with the stern expression Steve liked to dole out when his troops were misbehaving. Steve liked to think of himself as Sadie's guardian angel when it came to keeping Bucky in check. Bucky cracked a grin and pocketed the keys. He sauntered across the bridge, raising his eyebrows in a manner that was anything but funny. The mood changed in an instant; Sadie felt it settle into her bones and seep into her veins.

"Well, Steve's not here right now."

"No." Sadie's breath hitched in her chest. "He's not."

Bucky stopped a little ways away from her, eyes roving her narrow frame. A cool breeze blew at her skirt, flattening it against her slender legs. He swallowed hard and that single action set a fire ablaze in her chest. She marveled at his ability to flip the switch so easily, transitioning from childish fun to making Sadie question her balance. A darkness flashed in his eyes, containing with it an invitation to return to the blanket. Wanting unfurled in the pit of her stomach at the notion of Bucky laying her back against the lush grass and feeling his hand slide up her thigh beneath her skirt.

"Truce?" He held out his hand to her.

Sadie stepped barefoot onto the bridge and just as her fingers slipped across his palm, thunder cracked overhead. The sky opened wide and released a deluge of rain that couldn't have been more perfectly timed if either of them planned it. Rain poured on their heads and Sadie shouted in surprise. Bucky's hand clenched down on hers. Both of them stared skyward at the storm but she started when thunder rolled again and lightning forked across the sky.

And then Bucky was moving, leading her off the stone bridge and across the short clearing to the abandoned chapel. He forced the door open with his hip and they burst inside. Sadie stumbled forward a few steps while Bucky barricaded the door as a gust of wind blew against it. Her lips parted in soft surprise. The stones were cool on her bare feet, leading down an aisle that cut between six deep pews. The chapel's finery, if it ever had any, was long since gone but simple stained glass windows rose high on either side of the chapel, set with low, deep sills. A quaint alter stood at the front, the crucifix long since removed to a newer location.

Sadie's heart started to pound gently against her breastbone. Hastily she wiped any makeup runoff from beneath her eyes and then forced her fingers through her soaking wet hair, slicking it away from her face. Her dress hung from her frame as though she'd climbed from a swimming pool and it clung to her body, revealing the softness of her curves that Bucky had felt out when they kissed but had never seen before. She became aware that his eyes were on her and when she turned, he stood a little ways away. Despite every inch of her body being sopping wet, her mouth went dry.

His white undershirt stuck to his chest and torso, turned transparent from the rain. All of him was as rain logged as she was and just as revealing. Using one of his marvelous hands he raked his wet hair back while his eyes openly roved her body. Sadie briefly contemplated making a joke or deflecting the awkwardness but couldn't for the heady tension that built up between them and practically hummed in the room. For months they'd walked a careful line in their physical relationship but Sadie didn't want to, not anymore. His mouth parted in soft surprise when she reached for the first button on her dress. One by one the buttons gave way beneath her trembling fingers until she reached the very bottom. Sadie couldn't quite meet his eyes as she peeled the dress off her body and laid it over the back of a pew to dry. Her slip was in no better condition and Bucky swallowed hard once more when she trailed to him.

A very large part of her nearly chickened out. But the rest of her, the ready part of her, grasped the hem of his white shirt and pulled it up and over his willing head. She laid the shirt out next to her dress and let her lips pull into a small smile when his breath hitched at her touch. The tips of her fingers bumped lightly over the muscles that defined his stomach and rose up to his chest. Sadie remembered seeing him shirtless once before and she let her searching fingers rove his side until they came upon the smallest ridge there.

"Sadie," Bucky breathed through a hard breath when she rubbed her thumb over the souvenir scar he carried from his stitches. Sadie shifted his arm out of the way and pressed a tender kiss there.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Sadie continued to test the limits of her bravery as she kissed her way back over his side to his chest, her nose skimming across his dark chest hair.

"You can tell me anything." His hands finally wound their way to her shoulders and down to rest at the small of her back.

"That night I stitched you up?" She kissed the center of his chest and smiled when he reflexively pulled her closer. "I wasn't nervous because I'd never done the procedure solo. I was nervous because I thought you were so handsome lying there without a shirt on. You did things to me that I didn't understand."

Sadie worked her lips higher until she found a spot beneath his jaw. "You've always had that effect on me," he murmured, sweeping his knuckles all the way up her spine to cup the back of her head. Slowly he tilted her back until she was at just the right angle. "You're so beautiful it hurts."

Lifting up to the tips of her toes, Sadie met his lips and inhaled sharply when he folded her against him, moving his body against hers in a way he never had before. An invisible barrier fell between them. Sadie wasn't sure if it was the rain or the utter isolation they enjoyed but she wasn't nervous anymore. Then again, she supposed it was possibly his wet skin sliding against hers and the thin, soaked layers that separated them. Both of them could say their drive was to get dry as fast as possible but Sadie knew it was more than that. Bucky drank deeply from her lips, slowly walking her back until she hit the pew where their clothes lay.

She was used to laughing with Bucky when they were together. They shared private jokes between rushed kisses but there was nothing funny about the way he looked at her now. His eyes never left hers when he removed her dog tags and necklace, thumb touching the songbird charm before he hung them from the notched end of the pew. Sadie removed his too and let them hang together before she reached for the buckle of his belt.

"Sade," his hand stilled hers.

"I know that I'm not ready," she answered the unspoken question for him. "But I want-" she tried to form the words but a lump rose in her throat. "I want to be close to you. Is that bad?"

Bucky shook his head. "I just want to do right by you, Sade." He bowed his head a frown tugging at his lips. "You're not naïve, I know you're aware that my past isn't," when he stopped talking she drew her arms around him and brought him into her hold.

"There have been other women," she filled in the blanks for him. "I figured as much. Do you not—do you not want to be with me that way?"

A hollow, shocked laughter filled the space. "Are you crazy? I want you so badly—Sade, if I could take you back to my bed right now I'd never let you leave it. It's not a question of wanting. It's more that," he struggled to find the right words.

Sadie touched the side of his face to bring him to look at her. "Talk to me," she encouraged softly.

Bucky's fingers toyed with her hair before trailing down her cheek. "I never took this kind of thing seriously before and I never thought much about the consequences. But with you it's different. I love you so much, Sadie. And I want to do this right, so that when I go to your mother for her blessing I can look her in the eye and tell her I've done right by you."

Once again, Sadie's words failed her. She knew they were headed down a course towards marriage but they'd never talked about it before. Sadie always assumed they would cross that bridge when the war didn't seem so endless and when there was a light at the end of the tunnel. But there were the words, put out there where Bucky wanted them. He dropped his lips to her forehead and cradled her close to him. "You didn't think this was a fling, did you?" His voice was velvet in her ear.

"No," she replied, voice shaking. "Of course it's not. But you don't need to be so worried about doing the right thing. I'm perfectly able to decide for myself what I want and don't want. And I want your hands on me," to illustrate her point she covered the back of his hand with hers and moved it to cup her breast over her slip. "Just as long as you don't tell my mother where your hands have been I think you're safe to get her blessing. And if not I'm still going to marry you any way."

To Sadie's amazement, Bucky took her at her word. He swept down on her, releasing a wave of passion he'd been holding back this entire time. With every kiss and touch he overwhelmed her senses until he was the only thing she felt, smell, heard, tasted, and touched. The storm raged outside but inside the slightly dusty, echoing chapel Sadie never knew. Bucky's wonderful hands were liberal on her body, his fingers featherlike when he drew paths along her bare arms and shoulders before grazing the length of her back, dropping low to squeezer backside and drive her hips against his where she felt how badly he wanted her. He'd had his hands all over her body before but this was different. Then he'd been worried about crossing lines and taking too much of her innocence. Now he gripped her hips so tight he probably left bruises and he removed the offensive satin and lace bra she wore beneath her slip so he could massage her breasts and tease the sensitive peaks through her still-transparent slip.

Sadie lost track of the time they spent discovering each other, the moments punctuated by the cracking thunder and his belt buckle thunking on the stone floor. Their joined dog tags swayed when he backed her against the pew once more.

"So beautiful," he muttered, dragging his lips across her bared shoulder. He crouched down and pushed the slip out his way so he could grasp her bare thighs. Sadie held on tight to his shoulders when he picked her up and instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. "You don't know how long I've wanted your legs around me."

"A while?"

"A fucking lifetime," he groaned into her collar as he carried her to the wide windowsill of one of the stained glass windows. Colored light filtered green and blue over them and rain lashed against the panes. Sadie knotted her fingers in his thick hair, still wet at the roots. Bucky's hips bucked forward when she tightened her legs around him, driving him forward against him.

"Bucky Barnes, you rogue," she teased lightly but the words died in her lips when he kissed her breasts through the thin fabric doing nothing useful to cover her. Her head pitched forward, sending a wave of her still-drying curls over them. Spurred on by her reaction he tightened his hands on her thighs and dragged her forward.

Her heart was absolutely pounding from anticipation. Sadie's inexperience compared to Bucky's always seemed so daunting to her but she discovered that so much of it was reflex and following her body where it took her. Bucky's hands curved over the top her thighs and she had to resettle herself when he gently spread her legs wider. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and he rose up, catching it with his and kissing her deeply, all teeth and tongue. Bucky swallowed her whimper of surprise when his hand entered the narrow gap between her thighs, followed by the hard hitch in her breath when he curled his fingers up and brushed his knuckles along the front of her underwear, inching lower, right over the apex of her thighs. A low, breathy moan worked its way free between their joined lips that caused Bucky to tear away just so he could watch her.

An incoherent sound joined the light thud of Sadie's head when it fell against the stained glass. Taking her reaction as a good sign, he dragged his knuckles back up and unleashed an unbelievable, white hot ache there that Sadie had never felt in her life. He'd certainly had a similar effect on her before but this was different, this was a need that clouded everything else and when he withdrew his hand even millimeters away she fought the bodily urge to push herself against him again.

"Relax, Sade," he coached her gently, his eyes having gone to the white-knuckled grip she had on the ledge.

That was all well and good advice but utterly useless when he straightened his fingers out and touched her through her underwear. Against her own volition, her back arched. Sadie had never felt another hand on her besides her own and even then it had been nothing like this. A nervous energy crackled around Bucky as he hesitated when he began to push the pesky barrier out of his way.

"Are you sure?"

Concern welled up in his eyes and Sadie was afraid he would back out if she hesitated. Though her fingers trembled when she curled them around the back of his neck she still nodded. "I mean, I'm a little worried we'll be struck by lightning but it's a risk I'm willing to take."

The attempt at levity worked and Bucky relaxed, giving her a devastating smile. He glanced at the stained glass above their heads. "This is a first for me too."

Bucky followed his admission by sliding one finger and then two inside of her. A surprising growl emitted from his throat and Sadie wished he was wearing a shirt so she had something to grasp. Her eyes fell shut and a shuddering breath expelled from her lungs. "I—Bucky," she moaned, her head rocking back against the glass when he moved out of her and back in.

"Stay with me," his voice was rough in her ear.

Sadie wanted to say she wasn't going anywhere but couldn't find the words. Instead she searched out his mouth and kissed him deeply, happily letting Bucky take this piece of her for himself. He tested her body with his hands, teaching himself how to please her while inadvertently revealing more about himself as well. Sadie discovered he liked the way she rocked her hips against his hand and didn't mind at all the way she twisted her fingers in his hair and tugged lightly when he moved a little harder and faster. She lost herself somewhere in the moment until a clap of thunder cracked so loud that it shook the chapel.

Sadie wasn't sure who was more disappointed when Bucky withdrew his hand in surprise but the soft groan he let out did things to her she would never understand. The want to have his hands back on her was visceral. One look into his face, darkened with open lust, told Sadie she wasn't alone in that sentiment. God, she wanted him, she wanted to feel him brace his weight on the window sill and have her there, morals and doing the right thing be damned. Sadie was desperate to feel him tangle his fingers in her hair, to wrap her body around his and use her up until she was completely and utterly ruined for every other man. Backward and possessive though the thought might have been, Sadie didn't care. She wanted Bucky to take her for his own, she needed to be his.

Daring to look out through her eyelashes, she found that he was watching her and waiting. Sadie couldn't have imagined him looking more handsome than he did in that moment, his jaw clenched and chest heaving. Although she figured she must have looked an unholy mess, Bucky seemed to love her naturally drying curls and her legs spread open because his hands were back beneath her slip, grasping her underwear.

"Lift up," he ordered and she didn't think twice.

"Don't drop those," she whispered when he worked them over her feet. He tucked them into the back pocket of his trousers and then answered her silent command to return to her mouth. As he kissed her, Bucky pushed his fingers back inside of her, this time with a goal in mind. Reflexively, her body tightened around him and she leaned forward into him, clutching at his sweat-slicked skin. Sadie followed his lead, burying her face in his neck as he worked her closer and closer to climax. Pressure built up until she could hardly stand it, muffling her cries into his skin and digging her fingers nails so deeply into the back of his neck she was amazed she didn't draw blood. And then he stroked the most sensitive part of her with his thumb and she fell apart. She shuddered around his hand as a wave rolled through her body so strong that it left her trembling.

"Easy, Sade," he whispered into her ear. Sadie couldn't catch her breath; her chest rose and fell rapidly, still outpaced by her racing heart. Her fingers were rigid on Bucky, digging into him for some semblance of control. An unearthly noise popped out of her ragged lips when he withdrew and steadied her sides, breathing hard himself. Bucky turned his head to press his forehead to hers. A thought occurred to him at the same time it did her. "Was that your first?"

She swallowed, her throat utterly dry and sticking when she tried to clear it to speak. There was no point in denying the obvious truth and Sadie didn't want to. "Yes."

That single word changed the mood in an instant again. Shifting from commanding and passionate, Bucky's touch softened as he gently gathered her into his arms and he guided her off the sill. He carried her to one of the wide pews where he laid down and brought her with him, cradling her to his body. For a while, Sadie lay with her head on his bare shoulder letting the waves recede until the sheen of sweat that coated her body dried and she nestled deeper against him for warmth.

Outside the rain was beginning to lighten and she knew soon they would be forced out of their slice of heaven. Bucky seemed lost in his own thoughts over the new line they'd crossed and she let him soak up the quiet, there were no words on her part anyway. At length, his cool lips buried in her hair.

"I love you, Sarah Grace," he said at last. "I love you so goddamn much."

Sadie kissed the first spot on his shoulder her lips could reach. "I love you too, so much that the words won't ever be enough."

They dozed off together, waking only when Bucky shifted to get comfortable from lying on the hard pew. Dusk was rapidly descending and soon they would have no light at all. Bucky's tenderness continued when they dressed, helping her with the many buttons on her dress and kissing her forehead before taking her hand to lead her outside, back to the car. He held her there for a while, stealing a multitude of kisses before they did the best they could with the still wet blanket and packed the car. Once inside, Sadie sidled right next to him, smiling when he wrapped his arm around her.

During the drive, Sadie thought about the strange and surprising turns their afternoon had taken, a perfect mirror to the rest of the relationship. Their contented quiet after had surprised her and she caught herself worrying that things would now change between them. Absently, her fingers went to the steel ball chain, following it down to her dog tags. She dragged her thumb over the raised lettering and then frowned. Sadie had touched her dog tags so many times for comfort that she knew they way they even felt by heart.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked, glancing down at her as she pulled the chain out and angled the tag into a sliver of light from the buildings they drove past.

"I think I'm wearing your dog tags," she said and, ensuring that she wasn't distracting Bucky, inspected the tags hanging around his neck. Sure enough, they said _Reid, Sarah Grace_ , followed by her information. "And you're wearing mine."

A moment of prolonged silence hovered between them before the pair burst into laughter. It was a long time before either of them could keep from laughing when they looked at each other. Sadie knew then that whatever changed between them only brought them closer together. He drove into the night and she wished that their perfect moment would never end.

 **A/N:** **For once I'm not apologetic about the end of a chapter! Next chapter picks up with a brand new mission in France and a whole lot of drama!**

 **Anyway, I would love to hear what you think! Much love – Kappa.**


	23. Disagreements and Wedding Rings

**A/N: A regular update? Can it be? It is! And this chapter is accidentally way longer than I meant it to be! A lot of this is setup for the new mission, for some character development, and some relationship things! Also, I've tried to be as accurate as possible but I ended up glossing over certain details because I couldn't find the answers or I just didn't have room to include them. That being said, this is another one of those chapters where Sadie is acting way outside her job description – the next chapter will similarly follow that theme!**

 **Almost 300 reviews, almost 500 follows, and almost 350 favorites. I can't get over it. I'm so blown away and humbled by all the love and support you've given this story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, ya'll keep me coming back! ALSO – this chapter was not beta-ed by the lovely Stencil Your Heart so pleasepleaseplease forgive the errors I know I missed!**

 **Fair warning – the first scene has a mildly racy flavor but I promise this story isn't going to devolve into nothing but love scenes now that we're starting to get to that point. There's plenty of plot to go too!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** _ **Cap**_ **. I own Sadie and everyone else you don't recognize as Marvel.**

 **Chapter 23 – Disagreements and Wedding Rings**

A full band played on Sunday nights at The Regency Club, a dance hall a few blocks away from the SSR barracks. The vaulted ceilings soared over the enormous dance floor, flanked by cozy booths and a bar that took up half of one side of the east wall. Trumpets and saxophones cut through the din of the crowd and the haze of smoke that rose ever higher to the pitched ceiling. Chandeliers bathed the whole hall in golden light that shone on the burnished buttons of the uniforms that eager servicemen wore. The band switched tempo and led into a slower song, letting the gentle wail of the music meld with the lazy jazz piano that caused an almighty shuffle among the dancing couples.

Men who didn't have dates scoured the joint for knots of single civilian girls who might be obliging. Friendly couples parted ways to rejoin their respective groups while newer couples clung to each other, lost in the midst of newfound passion. Amidst all the chaos one couple shifted easily from laughing their way through a buzzy swing to a slow and steady step. Sadie naturally moved closer to Bucky when he eased their tempo to match the music and slid his arm protectively around her small waist.

"He's still staring at you," Bucky muttered. As he led her in a turn, Sadie let her eyes casually drift off to one side of the bar where group of GI's stood. Sure enough, the same corporal who approached Sadie at the bar was watching her every move, not even bothering to hide the open interest in his eyes. She flicked her gaze back to Bucky and bit her lip when she caught the obvious jealousy tainting Bucky's expression.

"Why Bucky Barnes," she marveled in an openly amused voice. "Are you jealous?"

"No," scoffed Bucky, grinning a little too cockily to pass.

Sadie did not miss the way his fingers widened over her lower back or the fact that he pulled her just a fraction closer to him, bringing their bodies flush together. In order to follow his steps Sadie had to let one of her legs move between his occasionally, bringing a slight flush to her cheeks. "That's funny," she muttered demurely in his ear, lightly stroking the back of his neck. "Because if I didn't know any better I'd say your hand was about to slide into foul ball territory just to prove to eager beaver at the bar that I'm your girl."

Bucky pulled back in surprise, his hand freezing in place at the very top of her backside. Amusement danced in his eyes. "Am I hearing things? Or did you just make a baseball reference?"

"I think you're starting to rub off on me, buck sergeant," she admitted and he rewarded her mild disdain with a grin that could melt ice cream on a cold day.

Bucky must have noticed something shift in her face or body because he leaned in close again. "Would you really mind if my hand happened to slip?"

"Think about who you're talking to," she replied, her voice matching his for velvet and humor. Bucky's cocky grin only grew in understanding and he let his hand slide back up to a more appropriate spot on her back. He knew just as well as Sadie did that she'd have his head if he went around grabbing her backside for the whole world to see. Bucky spun her in a circle, cutting expertly through the other couples that crowded the floor. Sadie couldn't say for sure a thing about any other couple out there or anyone else in the dance hall for that matter. Their friends were scattered throughout the establishment but for the last few songs she'd belonged solely to Bucky and she really only cared about his warm touch and the way he looked when he loosened his uniform tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

Sadie toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck and smiled when his nose brushed past hers, his lips just barely playing at kissing her. "Now once you get me alone," she teased him lightly, knowing she was playing with fire. "Well that's a different story."

Darkness swirled into Bucky's blue eyes. The obvious wanting that softened his mouth and caused him to swallow a couple of times shot right into Sadie and she felt it deep in her body, a superheated coil tightening agonizingly slowly. Their first real foray into a physical relationship only a week earlier made the ache that much worse. Sadie now had a taste for what Bucky's hands could do and now every last cell in her body was desperate not only for a repeat but also to learn what all the rest of him could do. As though Bucky could read her mind he leaned in close so his lips brushed against her ear. The coil tightened another notch.

"That's all well and good, sweetheart, but how am I supposed to let your admirers know you're all mine?"

Sadie supposed she should balk at the notion of Bucky's possessive streak but she enjoyed it too much to care. The sentiments she felt in the chapel hadn't changed. She wanted to be his as much as she knew he belonged to her. Still, a wicked grin tugged at her lips, having caught Bucky in the act. "Sergeant Barnes, you are jealous."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm jealous," he admitted at last. "I want to pummel every guy who even blinks at you the wrong way. But if I did that I'd be busy all night and I certainly couldn't just leave you to your own devices."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she mused and wished his low chuckle didn't send a shiver down her spine.

"You might want to rethink that, Sade. I'm pretty sure the last eight months say otherwise."

She smacked his shoulder and he laughed, whirling her around. "You're incorrigible!"

Bucky twirled her out and then back in, holding her flush against him. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Their noses brushed again. "There's a dictionary in the SSR library, maybe you should look it up."

Bucky answered her with a brief but firm kiss, one that left Sadie with no doubt that he was staking his claim before Corporal Eager Beaver and every other man in the club foolish enough to think they stood a chance. When they parted she wanted to chastise him but found she couldn't, not when his eyes flashed humor and affection. Instead she laid her head on his shoulder and smiled when he raised their joined hands to rest right against his chest, rubbing his thumb over her hand.

A few bars of music later and a new thought came to her. "I have to report to the briefing room at seven-thirty tomorrow morning. Any idea as to why?"

Bucky scowled in confusion. "No clue. But we're all briefing for a brand new mission at eight. Maybe that has something to do with it."

"I can't imagine what, though."

A knowing, rather unforgiving smirk tugged at the corners of Bucky's lips. "Maybe Agent Carter wants to talk to you about her crush on Steve. If she does, convince her to cut the guy a break will ya? I'm getting sick of hearing about Peggy this and Agent Carter that."

Sadie muffled her laugh into his jacket. "I thought Peggy wasn't interested in Steve any more? Not after she caught him kissing that blonde girl."

The band moved smoothly into the next song, another slow and low tune. Neither Sadie nor Bucky saw the young corporal at the bar start to work up the courage to cut in only to lose his backbone when the pair kept on dancing. Instead, Sadie found herself in an argument with Bucky over whether or not Peggy was secretly in love with Steve or not.

"She shot his shield, I'm not sure she could have been any clearer."

Bucky just rolled his eyes and dipped Sadie back, openly enjoying the way she clung to him to keep from dumping herself onto the floor. "Why bother getting so upset if she wasn't jealous? You'd probably do the same."

"If I saw you kissing another woman?" Sadie enquired, raising an annoyed eyebrow. Even thinking about Bucky with someone else felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her and aching throughout her body. She recovered quickly, however, and pointed out one crucial fact. "The difference is that Steve and Peggy weren't already together. Besides, I know you would never do that to me. You're a lot of things, Bucky. And loyal is one of them."

"Damn right I am," he replied in a low voice twisted the coil tighter deep within her. "Plus there's really no point, I'm never gonna meet a better kisser than you. Maybe Steve should just kiss Peggy and that'll change her mind."

Sadie's mind had already gone off the rails however, thinking of much more effective uses of their time. Bucky's muscles twitched when she lightly raked her fingernails through his hair and down part of his shoulder. They were close enough again that she could whisper in his ear and she thoroughly enjoyed it when his hand clenched hers a little tighter. "So, do you want to spend all night talking about Steve and Peggy? Or do you want to get out of here?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, there's always the storage room in the bunker," she said of one of their favorite haunts. "Evelyn's bound to be out until late tonight so we could always go up to my room for a bit." Sadie artfully excluded Bucky's newly upgraded quarters, improved by the lack of his well-meaning but sometimes overbearing roommate. Though both of them were perfectly aware that they had a suitable option to sneak away to, neither of them dared mention Bucky's room. The temptation was too great for the both of them; Sadie knew if she followed Bucky into that room with no threat of interruption she wouldn't come out until morning.

"I like your room," he replied and already was edging them closer towards the end of the dance floor. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she sought out his blue eyes and drummed up the courage to make a request that she'd been thinking about ever since the week before and the quiet hours in the chapel. "I thought maybe," she swallowed and tripped over her words.

"Thought what?" Bucky enquired, his blue eyes dancing with curiosity.

Sadie leaned in even closer until her lips brushed past his ears. "That maybe we could pick up where we left off in the chapel last week."

Bucky stopped dancing. His whole body tensed in response to what she was offering. "You shouldn't tease a man like that," he warned, curling his arm tighter around her waist. "It's not nice."

"I'm not teasing," she stated, thinking of the desire that ached low in her stomach.

Bucky needed no further encouragement and the band drowned out of her peal of laughter when he all but dragged her off the dance floor. Neither Sadie nor Bucky caught the open disappointment on her admirer's face as Bucky led her into the the fine summer night. The blackout made navigating the crowded streets even more difficult that it would have been. Bucky kept his hold on her hand tight, leading her beneath the glow of streetlamps designed to cast their beams straight down to the pavement. Though the absence of light made for slower going, Sadie didn't mind so much when Bucky backed her out of the limited light and into the darkness, kissing her deeply as he pressed her up against the side of a brick building. Jagged edges from the brick dug into her shoulders but Sadie hardly noticed while she tasted the whiskey on Bucky's tongue. When they parted Sadie didn't need street lights to see Bucky's face, she'd memorized the desire that darkened his eyes and touched his mouth, twitching as though he could barely keep himself under control.

When at last they entered the lobby of the SSR building it was to find the area deserted and bathed in warm light, blocked from the street by thick curtains. Once they reached Sadie's door she fumbled in her purse for her keys. Finding the offending objects was almost impossible when one of Bucky's hands curled around her hip, holding her in place while he nudged her head to the side so he could kiss her neck. Sadie's eyes fluttered shut as her head fell back against his shoulder.

"Having problems?" He wondered against her skin, the free tips of his fingers curling around her jaw and trailing down to unbutton the keyhole neck of her dress.

"We're in the hallway, buck sergeant." Sadie's voice was barely a breath when his fingertips danced over her breastbone before disregarding the neck of her dress, slip, and bra. The tiny rational voice in her head was screaming for her to get a grip but it was impossible not to moan helplessly when he cupped one of her breasts, teasing the crown with his thumb and forefinger. Her throat went utterly dry, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth but Bucky didn't stop his relentless pursuit of her neck.

"Then, you should hurry up and find those keys, before someone sees us like this."

Sadie knew that if she weren't half out of her mind with pleasure she would elbow him in the gut for his gall. But she couldn't even remember her own name when he was touching her this way. Her fingers fumbled inside her bag until at last she found her keys and with trembling hands opened the door. Only Bucky's arm locking around her waist kept her from falling forward into the small living area of the suite she shared with Evelyn. The door snapped shut at the same time her back came against it, pinned between the still-vibrating wood and Bucky's firm body.

"You swear Evelyn will be out late?"

Sadie nodded, remembering the sight of her friend and another nurse surrounded by a bevy of adoring men. "A couple of hours at least."

Bucky watched her carefully, twisting a loose lock of hair around his finger. He bit his lower lip to cage his pleased smile and Sadie's knees wobbled uncertainly, glad for his body holding her up against the door. But he stepped away, taking her hands with him. "Come here."

Sadie never imagined there would be a time when two words could undo her so easily. Walking backwards, Bucky used his memory of the room and excellent spatial skills to lead her to the small sofa that took up part of the small sitting room. Bucky sat back, releasing her hands. Anything Sadie wanted to say wouldn't come out when his hands disappeared beneath her skirt, palms grazing liberally up her thighs until he hooked them beneath her garter straps. Subject to his mercy, Sadie decided to embrace the pounding of her heart and desire that fueled her body to move with him until she straddled his lap in such a way that Bucky couldn't hide his obvious wanting. Her eyes met his and the surprise on his face clearly told Sadie he hadn't meant to get quite so carried away. Sadie wondered what it would take to get his iron willpower to break. Taking his face in her hands she kissed him deeply, not bothering with niceties as she swept her tongue into his mouth.

For a long time they nearly drowned in the passionate kiss they shared, allowing their hands to roam freely until his shirt was mostly unbuttoned and her hair spilled down her back as he cast hairpins onto the floor. In the minutes that passed by both of them were able to turn off their brains for just a little while, taking pleasure in the simplicity of each other's company and the silence that enveloped them. Sadie didn't regain her senses until she felt Bucky's deft fingers undoing her garter straps. Reaching down, she stopped him.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, breathless from their kiss.

"Perfect," she replied and shifted her weight on top of him, experimentally settling her hips lower against him. Bucky dropped his head back to try and mask his groan of satisfaction. It was just as Sadie suspected and she wasn't about to let his favors go unreturned. Taking his chin her hand, she guided him to her a brief kiss. "You make me feel so incredible," she murmured, watching his lips tug into an over-confident smile. Sadie kept her gaze locked on his, studying his face for even the slightest change in emotion when her fingers undid his belt buckle. "But it hardly seems fair that it's you doing all the work and getting nothing out of it."

"Trust me," he replied in a raw voice. "I get plenty out of it. It's good for me too."

"I know that," she reasoned, not naïve enough to think he didn't get a huge ego boost out of her pleasure. "But I want to make you feel that way, too."

The buttons of his fly came undone and Bucky grasped her hand to stop her. "Sade," he said by way of gentle warning, telling her that she didn't have to do this and that he didn't have any expectations. They'd been down this road before but now Sadie was ready to fight back; she was ready to use her own words capable of derailing his train of thought.

"I want to do this for you," she murmured, leaning forward to catch his earlobe lightly between her teeth. Bucky shuddered and he gripped her tighter "And I want you to teach me how."

Just as she expected, Sadie's words had done the trick. Bucky went rigid beneath her, his every muscle at attention and perfectly attuned to her body and curious hands. Sadie took advantage of his momentary shock and carefully rubbed the heel of her palm over the tight front of his trousers. The veneer of Bucky's self control shattered. He crushed her closer, moving his hand atop hers to follow the same motion again. "Say it again."

Sadie didn't need him to specify, she knew exactly what words undid him so easily. "Teach me."

And that's exactly what Bucky did.

X X X

Monday morning came as a rude awakening for Bucky. He lay in his bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling and wishing he could roll over and sleep for another hour. The idea of spending the entire morning trapped in a briefing room was near the bottom of Bucky's list of things he wanted to do, a list topped by cavorting around the city with Steve, causing a bit of a ruckus at the local pub with his friends, and also sneaking off into total isolation with the same woman who had been on his arm longer than any other. Now that sounded like a perfect Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, or any day of the week really; Bucky wasn't a picky man.

His knees protested when he got out of bed and started his morning routine, scratching the back of his neck while he pulled out the same uniform he wore day in and day out. Memories from the weekend stayed with him while he splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth. Bucky wanted to go back in time to Friday night, pounding his fist on the bar, howling in laughter with the boys. He'd stumbled back to his room at a tender two in the morning and spent much of the next morning with his head in his hands while he listened to Peggy's merciless lecture on French customs for the eventuality the Commandos would go there again. More than once during the hellacious exercise he caught Sadie's eye and her wry, knowing smile. It turned out she was just as merciless as Peggy when it came to the idiocy of men and alcohol. When he went skulking over to her all she did was feed him a couple of Aspirin and warn him that he better not be late to pick her up to go dancing.

Bucky's fingers slipped on the knot of his tie when he remembered what came after dancing on Saturday night. Even now he blinked and saw Sadie's skirt and slip bunched up to reveal slim legs that he practically worshipped. He loved how effortlessly they shifted between moods, from trading childish barbs while he spun her around the dance floor to feeling her silky breath pass his ear between heady kisses that sucked the air clean out of his lungs. Bucky knew that Sadie was aware of her effect on him but he had no idea that she knew how to wield it as a weapon, because she only had to say two words to shatter his usually iron grip on his self control. The second Sadie asked him to teach her how to please him he lost his composure because she was so genuine and ungodly beguiling perched atop his lap that she could have asked him to jump off a bridge with her and he wouldn't have hesitated.

Bucky wasn't sure if it was because he'd been on his own in that department for so long, or if Sadie had magic running through her fingers, or if it was simply because she was an eerily fast learner but she proceeded to give him one of the best orgasms he'd ever had. He supposed it was a combination of all three factors, not that he cared in the slightest about the why or how. All he knew was he loved every second of feeling her hands on him and was already counting the minutes until they could be alone again. Afterwards, when he was a mess of loose muscles and more relaxed than he had been in he couldn't remember how long, he looked at her dead serious and said "thank God for army nurses." Sadie laughed so hard she cried and he fell in love with her just a little bit more.

Bucky shook his head and grinned at the way she waltzed into the mess hall the next morning and sat across from him and Dum Dum, biting into an apple and acting as though breaking at least a dozen Army regulations and shattering even more moral dogmas she'd grown up with was all in a day's work. But he knew better. Because that night, when they went to the movies with the rest of their friends, she silently let her guard down. Sidling close to him, she'd laced their fingers together and lifted his arm over head to rest around her shoulders. Bucky took the silent message to heart, that she was in new, incredibly unfamiliar territory and she needed him to reassure her that this wasn't all for nothing. He didn't let go of her hand for the rest of the night; he'd be damned if she ever went a minute without knowing that she meant the world to him now, every bit as important as his family and Steve.

Even though those eventual hours were fresh, they still felt like a lifetime ago when he left his room and made his way down to the bunker. A slight throb echoed between his temples and he was in desperate need of a cup of coffee, even the shitty coffee the Army had to offer. As he passed into the lobby he ran into James Falsworth and Dum Dum on their way down too.

"Morning," said Dugan gruffly. He was strangely devoid of his trademark cigar but Bucky supposed that seven-thirty was early even for the Bostonian.

The three men made the short jaunt to the bunker, which was already in full swing. Bucky stopped by the small mess long enough to pour himself a cup of coffee before he trailed into the briefing room. A long table took up most of the center of the room, with chairs that all turned towards the maps of Europe that lined one of the walls, illuminated by lights overhead that swung at the slightest vibration of the earth above them. Upon walking into the doorway, Bucky could immediately something was amiss.

Steve and Colonel Phillips stood in conversation, reviewing a manila folder open in Steve's hands. Peggy drifted away from one of the maps to join them, casting a wary eye towards Bucky. Instantly her gaze snapped away when she caught him and his stomach turned in a knot. Jacques Dernier and Gabe Jones leaned over another map spread out near the middle of the table. Gabe pointed to a location Bucky couldn't see. A warm, wonderfully familiar laugh drew his attention to the far end of the table. Howard Stark half-sat on the table, gesturing wildly to Sadie whose nose wrinkled as she laughed at his antics. She wore her Class A's, showing off the Silver Star she'd been awarded back in April along with the silver bars on her shoulders, reminding Bucky of her promotion to First Lieutenant, received shortly after Normandy.

"Heya, Buck, you wanna move?" Dum Dum's voice spurred Bucky forward. Sadie's stormy eyes flickered over to him and her lips lifted in a weak smile before she returned to her conversation. Bucky knew he shouldn't have been bothered by her lukewarm acknowledgement of his presence. She maintained strict rules for their relationship when they were on duty as opposed to off. Normally he took it in stride but something felt different, something felt off about this congregation of individuals. After all, if something important was happening with the aide team Doctor Holmes would be present and not Sadie. At length, however, she broke away from Howard and drifted towards him.

"I have something for you. Remind me after the briefing ends," she said and Bucky knew he wasn't mistaking the hesitance in her voice.

But he couldn't very well take her to the side to ask what the hell was going on. Instead, Bucky put his eyes to Steve with a mind to ask him. He tried to get through the tangle of people all gathered for the briefing. All of the Commandos were present along with the rest of the aide team all taking seats at the table. Peggy distributed familiar SSR-stamped briefing packets to each person.

"Alright, let's get started," Colonel Phillips' voice boomed through the room. "Agent Carter, if you'll brief us about the situation?"

Peggy rose from her seat and smoothed her pencil skirt. She pursed her red lips and swept her sharp eyes over the room once before she walked over to a board with a pull-down map. "As all of you in this room know, our code breakers have been working around the clock to decipher a string of communication coming out of Paris. Both Nazi and HYRDA codes have been transmitted across the continent, relaying messages concerning Hitler's plans for the city, the movement of his front line, and Schmidt's own dealings. Until now we've had limited success with the Nazi codes, getting just enough information to know that Paris remains under lockdown but there's been a change in orders. It appears that Hitler has given instructions to hold the city or destroy it trying. Considering that Paris is one of the cultural epicenters of the continent, this simply cannot happen."

A murmur of agreement rumbled through the room. "At the same time, our code breakers finally managed to crack a portions of HYRDA's code and our SOE friends operating in Paris have filled in the rest." She reached up and pulled down a detailed map of Paris. "While there are no factories or active HYRDA operations in Paris we have learned that there are three important sites from which we might gather intelligence. The first is here," she pointed to a sector along the Sienne River, marked with a large black 'H,' "a warehouse that we believe contains a weapons cache, materials storage, and communications outpost. The second is here," her finger moved to a second 'H' marked on the map, "The home of Damond Mercier, one of Schmidt's top Lieutenants. And finally," Bucky didn't mistake Peggy's hesitance or the way her eyes flickered to him before returning to the map. She pointed to another 'H' nestled in another residential neighborhood. "We believe that Dr. Arnim Zola has kept an apartment in Paris since the Nazi occupation but was forced to abandon it in short order when Schmidt broke ties with Hitler. If this is true," Peggy continued to speak but Bucky heard nothing.

His gaze remained fixed on that third 'H.' Bitter vitriol flooded his mouth and spilled down his throat into the pit of his stomach. The venom churned up a caustic kind of anger that leeched down into his very bones and left him shoving his fists under the table to hide the whites of his knuckles. Every vertebrae in his body shifted until he sat ramrod straight in his seat. Bucky forcibly ignored the two pairs of eyes he knew shifted to him, both filled with concern and curiosity.

He blinked and fought his every urge to shudder, behind his eyes he saw the sickly green light of Zola's lab and felt the bite of a large-bore needle. Bucky's hand shot to the inside of his elbow on reflex. Even now he could remember the burn, the intense pain, and the hallucinations that left him unable to discern fiction from reality.

Blink.

He fought against the restraints holding his weakened body down.

Blink.

He heard his own screams over the whirring of Zola's machines.

Blink.

Sadie's far away voice cutting through the haze of the medicine

Blink.

A fresh needle bit into his arm, flooding his veins with burning chemicals.

Blink.

Steve and Sadie dying inside a birdcage.

Someone put a gentle elbow into his side. Bucky started and out of the corner of his eyes he could see Dum Dum watching him carefully with a knowing look on his face. Gently he jerked his head towards where Steve was now preparing to address his team. Steve pulled down another map of Paris, this one far more detailed in showing the movements of several teams and, from what Bucky could tell, at separate times.

"Our mission in Paris will be two-fold. Both the Allied Command and the French Resistance have asked for our help in liberating Paris and in keeping the city still standing. Dernier has been working with his contacts in the French Resistance to determine when we will enter the city and to coordinate a way to enter the city undetected. Once we're in the city we will use the fighting as a cover to achieve objectives: destroying the warehouse and infiltrating and searching the homes of Damond Mercier and Arnim Zola. The briefing packet has more detailed information and we will be meeting for detailed mission briefings and training later but for now the short version is this: we'll infiltrate the city with the help of the French Resistance. From there we'll rendezvous with our primary contacts in the Resistance. In this mission secrecy is key and in order to move through the city undetected we'll be relying on the members of our team who speak French: Dernier, Gabe, Agent Carter, and Nurse Reid."

Bucky's jaw dropped. As if magnetically drawn there, his eyes swiveled to Sadie who sat perfectly still while she listened to Steve with rapt attention. The revelation that Sadie spoke French wasn't a surprise to Bucky as it was to others, he'd learned that tidbit of information ages ago when Sadie answered one of Rebecca's hundreds of questions. Since learning she was incredibly proficient in the language he'd tried his hardest to get her to whisper inappropriate things in his ear when they were alone together, though she never did. Sadie speaking French wasn't the problem. Sadie running around Nazi-occupied Paris helping the Howling Commandos blend into the background was a massive problem.

No wonder she couldn't quite meet his eyes just a few minutes ago.

"Once we're in position inside the city we'll split into four tactical teams. Dernier will stay with our contacts in the Resistance while Gabe will lead a small team to the storage warehouse and take it out. Agent Carter and Sergeant Barnes will secure and search Damond Mercier's home while Nurse Reid and I will secure and search Arnim Zola's apartment."

A hand clenched on the back of Bucky's elbow. Dum Dum forced Bucky to stay seated before he could even give into the urge to rise to his feet and start tearing Steve a new one. Steve continued on with the basic logistics but Bucky couldn't listen. He couldn't bring himself to hear the rest of the details. Instead he dared to glance back in Sadie's direction only to find she was watching him, drinking in every detail of his body language from his stiff posture to the way his jaw reflexively clenched, causing a vein to jump out just beneath. She looked rather apologetic, as though she already knew that he was going to be apoplectic when she agreed to this three-ring circus.

Dugan was right to keep Bucky in his seat. He was almost shaking with his barely suppressed anger. He didn't like this mission at all. But more than that he was angry at everyone involved for not telling him ahead of time. How long had Steve and the rest of command known? He was livid with Steve for knowing and not giving him fair warning. He was furious with the rest of the team and Colonel Phillips for asking Sadie to do something so radically outside of her job description it was almost funny. And for the first time ever, Bucky was angry with Sadie. He was angry that she would willingly put herself in even more danger than usually and he was furious that she apparently didn't think twice about her decision. Most of all, Bucky was burning from the hatred that coursed his veins for Arnim Zola, the man that caused all of this to happen. There, fused to his seat, Bucky let the fury consume him, not even caring that Sadie caught the precise second his eyes slid out of focus.

The briefing adjourned and the Commandos were released to their own devices before training exercises commenced in the afternoon. For a moment Bucky sat still, unable to move his body. Sadie rose to her feet and, in a move uncommon for her, came around the table to address him directly.

"I know you must be angry," she said and her voice was so placating that it was unbearable. Bucky couldn't even look at her. Her long fingers fumbled with the buckles on her musette, trying to open the flap. "And I wish we could talk about it now, but I'm already late for my shift at the hospital but I managed to track this down over the weekend and thought you'd like it."

Bucky shot to his feet before she could even plunge her hand into the depths of her bag. Without giving her a second glance he turned away. "I've got to go."

Bucky didn't need to see her face to know it remained poker smooth. For being such a terrible poker player, Sadie Reid had the best poker face he'd ever seen. The only sign that she was affected by his callus brush-off was the change in her eyes, flashing with deep hurt. Bucky marched out of the briefing room at a record pace.

He did not see Sadie produce a brand new baseball from within the depths of her musette.

X X X

There was a small gym in the same building as the SSR bunker on the main floor. Agents used it to train and stay in peak physical condition between missions, including the Howling Commandos. Because they didn't keep a traditional military code or schedule, Bucky went whenever he had the time or simply whenever he needed to blow off steam. The morning, after receiving the briefing packet for Paris, he supposed he was just about as angry as he'd ever been. He stopped by his room long enough to leave his jacket on his bed and grab his hand wraps before storming back downstairs.

The gym was devoid of life except two female SSR employees who perked up from the far side to watch as he hastily pulled off his tie and stripped off his shirt, down to the white tank he wore beneath. Feeling jittery, angry, anxious, but most all betrayed, Bucky hastily wrapped his hands and then slammed his fist into the bag. At once the rush and release of his fury flowed through his hand into the bag and he started hitting it over and over again in tight, controlled movements.

Bucky had boxed golden gloves as a kid; he knew what he was doing but that didn't stop a few of his hits from being sloppy in his fury. Never fight when you're angry, that's what his father always said but Bucky seldom remembered that. It was hard not to lose his temper when he saw bigger kids beating up Steve just as much as he was having a hard time not picturing Steve's face as he threw another punch into the bag, feeling it reverberate through his wrist all the way up to his shoulder. When he hit it again, Bucky imagined Colonel Phillips and then Howard. These men were his friends and Steve was his brother but that didn't stop him from being livid, from wanting to beat the daylights out of them for going behind his back.

Sweat started to trail down his temples, beading up along the back of his neck until a sheen coated his body but he just couldn't stop. Deep down he knew he should have tired out way earlier and that thought alone only spurred him to continue beating the bag into submission. Was this another side effect of Zola's handiwork? This wasn't the first time Bucky noticed his body bounced back faster than it should. Bruises and cuts he received during missions healed in record time, such that he was careful not to let any of them show, lest Sadie discover them and ask questions he wasn't ready to answer. He didn't tire like he should after long days in the field. None of that started until he'd been the doctor's personal pincushion. There were so many reasons that Bucky hated Zola but these changes that he couldn't control topped the list.

Now, Bucky was forced to content with a mission where he could finally get concrete information on the man and exact a little bit of revenge and he was shut out of it. His knuckles started to ache as he punched the bag so hard it swung awkwardly on its chain. A thread of childish indignation wove through his anger. How was it Steve got the honor of swooping into Zola's apartment to trash it for intelligence? Steve and Sadie weren't at the factory, and they weren't the subject of the doctor's experimentation and torture. Bucky grimaced, he should be the one to do it. In the face of that monumental disappointment he hit the bag harder still.

It wasn't until a strong force steadied the back that Bucky stopped his chest heaving. Sweat drenched his clothes and fell from his brow and into his eyes. Hastily he wiped it away.

"Go away," he growled at Steve who braced his weight, leaning forward into the bag to hold it still.

"So you are mad," Steve surmised remaining perfectly cool.

"I'm pissed as hell, what the fuck did you think was gonna happen? That I'd be happy about this?"

"No," reasoned Steve, still far too unruffled by Bucky's foul temper. "But I sort of hoped you would understand."

Bucky threw a punch into the bag so hard that Steve reeled from it. The idea of Steve I'll-fight-anything-that-moves Rogers telling Bucky to be understanding of an unjust situation was almost laughable. In the arena of the SSR, Bucky had been forced by his rank to follow Steve's commands and he happily did so for the most part but that also meant he couldn't talk back in a formal atmosphere. But now it was just the two of them, echoing back to the times that Steve steadied Bucky's punching bags in Brooklyn, only this time he didn't stumble backwards when Bucky hit the bag too hard. It was now or never, Bucky realized and so he let his temper get the better of him.

"I don't know why the hell you thought I'd understand. You're dragging all of us into a Nazi-occupied city to help start a goddamn revolution while at the same time knocking over apartments for information like we're cops and robbers. It's fucking ridiculous Steve."

"I never said the plan wasn't a little out there," admitted Steve and he planted his shoulder a little firmer against the bag. "But I don't think that's why you're mad."

Bucky walked away from the bag for a second before he returned in full force. "Zola's apartment," he admitted at last. "I'm the only one who actually knows the bastard, I should be the one to go there."

"That's exactly why you're not going there." A bitter, angry expression twisted his face. Steve sighed in exasperation, his temper finally getting the better of him too. "Oh come on, Bucky! Did you really think Colonel Phillips was going to let you go into that apartment? Ever since we started going after HYDRA you've been focused on finding Zola and every time he slips through our fingers you take it the hardest. Do you think we're blind? You're too close to this."

Hitler himself could have been holding a gun to Bucky's head and he still would never have admitted that Steve was right. His knuckles cracked painfully against the bag. "Right," he spat bitterly. "Instead you're going to drag Sadie into the most heavily occupied part of the city to do the job for me."

"Yeah," said Steve in a knowing, almost long-suffering voice. "I was wondering when you'd get around to that part."

"She's a nurse, Steve. A _nurse_. Her job is to fix people not run around with a gun and go undercover and put herself in danger like this. And I know you know that because if you thought this was all kosher you wouldn't have gone behind my back."

"It's not your choice," Steve said, bringing up the one part of the argument that Bucky couldn't quite match.

"She's my girl," he growled.

"And knowing Sadie she'd probably kick your ass for acting like this. You already hurt her today, you wanna keep pushing the envelope? Go ahead and see how long she sticks around."

For a second, Bucky seriously considered letting his fist slip. "Since when the fuck are you giving out relationship advice? It's been a year since you let a bunch of white coats use you as a lab rat and I don't see you with a girl of your own." Bucky hit the bag at the wrong angle and cursed colorfully, backing away from the bag to inspect his hand. The visible parts were red and angry and he knew he'd be feeling the pain in the morning. "Not telling me was wrong and you know it."

If Steve was hurt by Bucky's harsh accusations he didn't let it show. Instead he stepped from around the bag and fished a set of hand wraps from a wooden box in the corner. He wrapped his hands while deep in thought. After a while he tipped his head up, his eyebrows slightly raised in a supplicating way signaling that he was about to make a half-assed attempt at an apology.

"Maybe you're right, but she's a big girl, Bucky. Sadie made the choice to join the Army and then the SSR and she had the chance to say no to the mission. Colonel Phillips made that very clear to her that this was voluntary on her part. Besides, don't insult her like this, you know she can take care of herself."

Bucky took his place behind the bag and had to put every ounce of his strength into it when Steve threw his first punch. The force of Steve's first still shocked Bucky and his knuckles throbbed painfully when the punch reverberated through the bag right into his hands.

It wasn't a question of Sadie not being able to take care of herself. She had the most level head of any human being he'd ever met. Sadie not knowing what to do in the field wasn't the problem. The fear worked its way into his throat until the admission finally came out. "Steve, you don't understand," he said at last. Steve stopped, dropping his fists to listen. "If something were to happen to her, I don't think—it's hard enough when she's in the field with us and even worse when she's away on assignment." Bucky blinked and flinched. He forced himself not to dwell on the lingering image of Sadie laying dead in a prison cell, her eyes wide open and glassy. "I can't lose her, Steve."

Steve reached out and clapped his shoulder. The anger started to leech out of him, replaced by cold fear. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day when I'd hear you say stuff like that. But I'm glad. I think you and I both know she's the best thing that's ever happened to you."

Already Bucky was well aware that being with Sadie made him a better man. But he wasn't about to go admitting that to just anyone. Instead he shrugged off Steve's hand and let his Brooklyn accent lay on heavy, "Shut up."

"Yeah, yeah," said Steve, waving him off. "If it makes you feel better she'll be with me the whole time."

Bucky scoffed. "The guy who doesn't know when to run from a fight and seems to actually enjoy running into gunfire? That doesn't make me feel better at all."

Steve chuckled. "I'll be on my best behavior, I promise."

"You'd better be or I'll finally be the one to take you out back and beat the shit out of you."

A smirk tugged at Steve's lips. "You didn't when we were kids and you wouldn't now."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, wincing when he curled his fingers into a fist and straightened them out. He could see spots of red dotting his wraps.

"Because I like my odds these days."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing at Steve's newfound musculature and extra couple of inches he now possessed. Loathe as he was to admit it, Bucky knew that Steve was probably right. If it wasn't a fair fight then the scales definitely tipped in Steve's favor.

"That's only 'cause you're a side-show freak now."

Steve's laugh echoed through the open room and he trailed back to his jacket where he dug into one of the large pockets. "Speaking of your girl, she asked me to give you this."

Bucky barely caught the baseball. Turning it over in his screaming hands, he let out a half-chuckle thinking back to the shocking revelation that Sadie Reid, in all of her southern belle glory, had never thrown a baseball. He wondered how she got it and in such short order.

"Go get your hands fixed up and apologize while you're at it," said Steve. "If you lose this one it won't be because I didn't try hard enough for you."

Finally Bucky found a real laugh, breaking the last of his bad temper. The anger remained, simmering under the surface and he knew that he would be plagued with it for days and weeks to come, maybe the rest of his life. But for the moment he smiled down at the baseball before glancing up at Steve. "Maybe you should stop worrying about my love life and think about your own."

X X X

Bucky skulked into the hospital a little later. Sadie and Evelyn often lamented the slow shifts in the London hospital. He spotted Sadie almost immediately, working over a bed with Doctor Holmes. The patient they treated fussed and fought while Sadie appeared to be laying strips of gauze along a god-awful raw wound that scored most of the patient's side.

For a moment Bucky hovered uncomfortably, watching as Sadie did her best to comfort the man, writhing in agony. "I know, Agent Murphy," she cooed in her best southern comfort voice. "We're almost finished."

"Sergeant?"

Bucky turned to see the second nurse working the SSR ward. He'd seen her multiple times before, a short, plump girl with straw blonde hair and freckles. For the life of him, however, he couldn't remember her name. Her doe eyes widened when she recognized him.

"D-do you need help with something, Sergeant Barnes?" The poor girl's cheeks flushed pink and Bucky pursed his lips together. He was sure the young nurse was perfectly able to treat his hands but over the past year Bucky had become rather particular about his medical care and who treated him. That list stayed strictly limited to Doc Holmes, Evelyn, and Sadie.

"Uhm—no," he said trying to be as kind as possible even when her face fell. "If you don't mind I'd like to wait for the Doc or Nurse Reid."

Bucky knew he was being unreasonable but he couldn't be bothered to care. The young nurse merely nodded and sidled away, making a hasty excuse to check on one of the other sleeping patients. He wandered down to the desk that Sadie maintained while on duty and sank into the chair there.

Down the ward, Sadie's patient finally settled when she laid the last of the gauze over his wound and set to work bandaging up the poor man. Even from such a far distance, Bucky could see the ashen man tremble, his face contorted with obvious pain. Sadie and Doc Holmes worked as swiftly as they could and although Bucky couldn't hear either one of them, he knew the pair spoke soothingly to the man until at last, they helped him lay back into his pillows. Sadie straightened up and finally took notice of his presence. An expression reminiscent of their early days tightened her eyes and wiped the expression from her mouth. She sucked in a breath, hollowing out her cheeks and highlighting the dark circles beneath her eyes. Bucky squirmed guiltily in his seat.

Instead of coming directly to him, Sadie turned away and went to put away the medical supplies and clean up. Doc Holmes sauntered over. "Something the matter, Sergeant Barnes?"

The doctor's cool greeting told Bucky enough. He held up his hands, still wrapped up from boxing. "Got a little carried away."

"A little," surmised Holmes, sounding thoroughly unimpressed. "And Nurse Young couldn't be of assistance to you?"

"I didn't mind waiting for you or for Sadie," he muttered, feeling like a child more and more with each passing second.

"I'll take care of it." Sadie's crisp voice filled Bucky's ears as she approached, carrying a tray of fresh supplies.

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," murmured Doctor Holmes and Bucky had half a mind to beg the man to stay, lest he be left alone with an angry Sadie.

But the doctor didn't stick around and Bucky found his attention swiveling back to Sadie who moved a tall tray between them. Without a word she reached for his left hand and began unwrapping it, winding the fabric in a neat coil that she set aside on her desk. The right wrap followed it.

"Place your hands on the tray." Sadie kept her whole focus resolute on his hands. Bucky tried not to wince when he set his hands on the tray, keeping his hands curled in a way that minimized the pain. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't tell whether Sadie the nurse or Sadie his girlfriend was asking the question. "Went to blow off some steam, got into it with Steve."

She doused a cotton swab with antiseptic. "This might sting."

Although Bucky liked to think he possessed a high pain threshold, even he hissed and tried to pull away when she straightened out his fingers and began to dab the swab over his wounds. He half-expected her to apologize the way she often did when she unintentionally inflicted pain on her patients but she remained stone silent. "I know, I know," he groused miserably when she readjusted his hand and kept going. "I deserve it."

"Did I say that?" She enquired in a chilly, eerily calm voice. Bucky almost wished she would yell at him as opposed to her detached disappointment. As though she couldn't care less whether he was there or not.

"No but," Sadie cut him off.

"Then don't make assumptions."

The apology tumbled out of Bucky's lips as a desperate plea. "Sadie, I'm sorry. The briefing—it caught me off guard between you and Zola I just." He swallowed hard. Sadie stopped treating his hand, setting the bloodied cotton swab aside so she could listen to him, still keeping her gaze diverted. "I had to get out of there."

Sadie rubbed the pad of her thumb along the top of his knuckles, softening to the familiar touch he would know in his sleep. "It was my decision, Bucky," she said softly. "Colonel Phillips and Steve said I could help keep you all safe and then they said Zola and I had to say yes. Because I don't know what happened to you in Azzano but I know that man had something to do with it." When Bucky didn't immediately respond she kept on going and he could hear the worry in her voice, that she'd overstepped some invisible boundary. "And I'm not asking you to tell me. You obviously have your reasons."

"I'm not trying to hide anything from you," he interjected and turned his hand over to hold hers, wishing he knew the right thing to say.

"I know you're not," she promised. But Bucky wasn't sure he could believe her, he knew she was level-headed but it was too much to hope she was this understanding. When Sadie realized he was doubting her, she raised his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles and staring at him over the top of his still-bloody hand. "Bucky, we're both entitled to our secrets. But Doctor Zola has something to do with this and whether you like or not I'm going to do everything I can to help make this better for you. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth to help you get the justice you deserve."

The conviction in her voice reminded Bucky strongly of someone else. "You've been spending too much time with Steve."

Sadie's lips played at a knowing smile. "You only have yourself to blame for that," she reasoned and resumed treating his hands.

"I am really sorry, Sade. I hate knowing that I hurt you. Forgive me?"

"Of course I do," she replied. "And I'm sure this won't be the first time we clash over this mission so but you need to recognize that there's a difference between not telling me what you're not ready to say and shutting me out. When it comes to Azzano, take all the time you need. I'm a patient woman and we've got the rest of our lives. Just, don't shut me out."

Bucky nodded and then couldn't help but chuckle. She arched a questioning eyebrow. "It's something Steve said earlier, about how he never thought I'd be so serious about someone."

"Me either, to be honest," she laid a layer of gauze over his clean wounds. "Especially not a Brooklyn hothead who comes to me like this," she gestured to his right hand, still in need of her attention.

He lacked the good grace to be even remotely mollified. "It was either the punching bag or Steve's face. I chose the one that wouldn't hit back."

Even prim and proper Sadie Reid couldn't but snort in poorly concealed laughter. "Well, I guess I can't fault you for that. I am rather fond of your face the way it is."

"Funny, so am I," he muttered and earned her real laughter at last.

In the coming days leading up to the inevitable call to move out, Bucky would still struggle with the mission. The extra French lessons that Sadie took with Dernier would grate on his nerves as would the shooting lessons that Peggy insisted on giving her. They would squabble about little things when he was in a bad mood or she had a long shift. No relationship was perfect and that was a hard-learned lesson for Bucky. But by the time Sadie finished bandaging his hands and forced him to promise to find her once a day to change the gauze, Bucky forgot why he was so upset in the first place. Instead he asked her an all-too important question when she escorted him from the ward.

"Where'd you get the baseball?"

Bucky loved her mischievous smile. "I have my ways, buck sergeant."

Bucky had no doubt that she did.

X X X

Sadie always imagined visiting Paris in the late spring. Influenced by books and photographs, Sadie imagined strolling the city streets in couture dresses, sipping coffee at a café outside the Eiffel Tower, and admiring the paintings that hung in the Louvre. Perhaps it was a romanticized and childish notion, but Sadie always like it. When she pictured Paris, she pictured the city of love and traversing the city in high style.

She did not imagine she would enter the city for the first time crammed into a hidden compartment at the back of a packed livestock truck, smashed between Dum Dum Dugan and Evelyn. Never in Sadie's wildest dreams did she envision skipping the city streets in favor of the grim catacombs that laced the underground. Sadie pictured gold-gilded hotels and sweeping views of the architecture. She never once envisioned setting up temporary HQ in the basement of an ancient apartment building just blocks away from the ritzier neighborhoods. Her plans never included coming to Paris on the eve of a revolution planned by the French Resistance, a force of twenty-thousand poorly armed men against the better armed Nazis that still held the city.

Nearly everything about the Howling Commandos' first mission in the city shattered Sadie's romantic expectations. In fact the only thing about Sadie's first trip to Paris that even approximated her imagination was the tailor-made clothing she and Peggy were both expected to wear in order to blend in with the neighborhoods they would be traversing. The haute couture fashion houses of Paris were now mostly defunct, but the eagerness for style remained and in the wealthy neighborhoods it was still alive and well. Sadie's eyebrows nearly flew into her hairline when she and Peggy were led into a private room which contained two tubs of steaming hot water, a small vanity and all of the products they would need to look the part of wealthy Parisian women.

The hot bath was a welcome reward after the difficult journey to the city and while Sadie scrubbed herself clean she considered the coming mission. Since the SSR received the call to move out she'd been possessed by her nerves. What if something went wrong? What if she and Steve were attacked? And worst of all, what if they searched Zola's apartment and found nothing? Sadie wasn't sure she would be able to face Bucky if they came up empty-handed.

While she curled and pinned her hair, Sadie answered Peggy's last-minute questions about Bucky, about his mannerisms and the way he acted. Peggy took her missions seriously and mined Sadie for as much information about the man as she could. For the most part, Sadie could answer each and every question without hesitation and if she couldn't Steve readily knew the answer. But while Peggy soaked up the information, Sadie could only hope that Bucky's recent bad mood had improved since she last saw him in the catacombs. Despite doing his best not to let his mood swings show, Bucky struggled to get through the training exercises, the meetings about his respective mission, and the knowledge that while he and Peggy were tossing one man's house, Sadie and Steve would be together in the one place he really wanted to be. His bad mood only worsened when the call to move out came in such that he'd barely spoken a word to anyone, Steve and Sadie included.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why. Since escaping the HYDRA factory, Arnim Zola was one of the SSR's top priorities and nobody wanted to find him more than Bucky. He blew hot and cold depending on the success of training missions and on the intelligence that came through the SSR. Sadie suspected that he'd been having nightmares though she couldn't bring herself to point out the dark circles beneath his eyes that suggested he wasn't sleeping. Worry for his well-being plagued Sadie to the point that she lived in greater fear of not finding anything at Zola's apartment than she did of being attacked. And after having a private talk with Steve three nights before, Sadie took comfort in hearing she wasn't the only one.

Sadie capped off her lipstick and turned her head from one side to the other to examine her reflection. She took in the details of her perfectly winged eyeliner, the smoothness of the powder on her face and the blush that highlighted her cheekbones. The red lipstick contrasted nicely with her pale skin and dark hair, curled and pinned into a very pretty style at the nape of her neck. Behind her, a dress hung from a hook nailed into the wall, just waiting to be donned for the evening.

"I feel ridiculous."

Her lips turned up in a wry smile. In the reflection of the vanity mirror, Sadie could see Peggy fussing with the full skirt of her dark green dress. The style of Paris turned out not to suit Agent Carter in the slightest as she tried to settle the skirt in a satisfactory way. Privately, Sadie thought the dress wasn't the problem so much as the ostentatious hat pinned atop Peggy's up do. Jewel green feathers adorned the hat and made Peggy look as though a rather large bird had come to nest in her hair.

"It's just one night," Sadie reasoned as she stood to adjust her stockings and garter beneath her slip. The addition of the holster on her thigh bothered Sadie more than the navy blue dress she put on or the flower-accented hat she pinned on. Even with so much fabric in the skirt there was no better place to hide the single-shot pistol that Peggy doggedly trained Sadie to use. So the FP-45 went into the holster that attached to her garter belt and looped around her leg. The gun was light and didn't affect her gait in the slightest but Sadie still knew it was there and she privately hoped she wouldn't need to use it.

"I'll be glad when this night is over," muttered Peggy, taking her place at the mirror to adjust her hat while Sadie stepped into her high heeled shoes and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She wished they were in a room above ground so she could open the window and get some fresh air. Trying to bathe, style her hair, put on her makeup and dress in the crammed makeshift quarters of the basement of the old building did not set her at ease. Per the mission parameters, Sadie pulled off her dog tags and necklace, lifting the neckline of her dress so she could stuff them both into the depths of her bra where they couldn't be seen. Her neck felt bare without both chains and already her fingers missed having her father's wedding ring as a token of comfort.

A knock on the door interrupted Sadie's thoughts and kept her from fretting too much about the coming mission. "Ladies? Are you decent?"

Sadie fought a smirk, only Howard Stark could make such an innocent question sound so scandalous. "Come in!"

Howard pushed the door open and immediately he grinned. "Why, don't you two look like the picture of Parisian haute couture? I'm tempted to take you out for a little dancing myself."

Peggy's scowl deepened and Sadie jumped in to stop her friend from saying something she'd later regret. "Is everyone else ready?"

"And raring," replied Howard as Peggy stood and smoothed out her skirt. Both women followed him out of the room and up the rickety stairs into the kitchen, the windows of which had been boarded up and the main area cleared out to make way for the activity that filled it. For a moment, all movement stopped when both women entered the room and Sadie now felt Peggy's same irritation.

"Nice hat," muttered Dum Dum Dugan when she drew close enough. Sadie fixed him with a glare that could melt the flesh off his face and he held up his hands in mock defense, shoulders still shaking with laughter. Of the men assembled, three of them stuck out like sore thumbs in sharp suits and ties. Sadie drew up short when she saw Howard join Steve and Bucky at one end of the room. It was only then that she realized she had never seen Bucky wear anything but a military uniform. A lump formed in her throat. Bucky could make a plain undershirt look good but he did particular justice to the navy blue suit he wore with a crisp white shirt. His jaw tightened and he nodded once to both women in silent greeting.

Howard beckoned the women over and Sadie caught Steve's eyes settle on her. She gave him a nervous smile until she noticed the two boxes in Howard's hands, the final piece of their cover. In order to pull off the guise of parading through the upscale Parisian neighborhoods, the SSR's intelligence officials, along with Howard, decided that both pairings of two go undercover as newlyweds.

"For you," said Howard as he handed one box to Bucky who looked less than thrilled to take it. "And you." The second box went to Steve. "Remember, you're supposed to be in love so act like it."

Steve opened the box to reveal two handsome golden rings. Sadie swallowed when she looked down at the matching set. He lifted the smaller of the two rings from the cushion. The oddity of the situation was not lost on either of them and he offered her a brotherly smile. "May I?"

Sadie held out her left hand and he slipped the ring onto her finger. "You know, when I pictured this moment it went a little differently in my head."

The tension between them was stiff as a board and Sadie was desperate to break it. "You never thought you'd end up putting a wedding ring on your best friend's girl?"

Her innocent sarcasm did the trick and Steve chuckled. "Not exactly. But if I've got to pretend to be married someone, I'm glad its you."

Sadie took the second ring and Steve let her put it on for him. "I now pronounce us fake man and wife."

"You won't mind if I don't kiss the bride," Steve played along with her cheek and it went a long way to easing her nerves.

"I'd prefer it that way and so would someone else, I think." Steve cast a furtive glance to where Peggy and Bucky were both speaking in undertones putting on their own wedding rings and looking far too focused on the mission to think about their cover much. Sadie rubbed her fingers against the foreign object on her hand, noting that she wasn't the only one who pictured the exchanging of rings differently. Was this part of Bucky's problem? This particular cover?

"He'll get over it," muttered Steve, thinking of the difficulty that Bucky had been having with the mission. "We're gonna get good intelligence and he'll be back to normal in no time."

"I hope you're right," Sadie whispered under her breath, wishing her heart wouldn't contract so hard when Bucky's eyes met hers for the briefest of seconds before he looked away. Steve touched her elbow and led her away. He slipped easily back into mission-mode and squared her to face him. Sadie expected him to make her repeat the particulars of the mission but instead he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

"Sade, I know this is outside of your usual job description but you can do this. I know you can. Just keep the same level head you do at the hospital and this is all gonna go off without a hitch."

Steve's promise was one he couldn't necessarily keep, but Sadie appreciated the sentiment all the same. She nodded once just as Howard appeared once more. "Are you two ready?"

" _Oui_ ," she replied.

"Alright, then you two will go out first. Good luck."

The stairs that led to the front door of the building rose ominously into the unknown. As she walked past with Steve, she heard the encouragement of her friends and a hand brushed past hers, the most intimate gesture Bucky could give her under the circumstances. Steve clapped Bucky once on the shoulder, a silent promise to keep them both safe before she and Steve climbed the stairs. At the top, the door loomed ahead. Sadie swallowed hard and took the arm that Steve offered her.

"Shall we? Mrs. Rogers?"

 **A/N: The next chapter picks up almost immediately where we leave off and is going to be dramatic and action-packed.**

 **So – I keep getting questions about where I'm going to go after the end of Songbirds. While the end of this story isn't imminent quite yet, we're getting there and I'm beginning to look to what's next. I do plan to go on and write a sequel but where it picks up is going to depend heavily on when I finish Songbirds in relation to what's going on in the MCU. To tide you all over, I'm developing a new AU that I hope to post in the near future. I'm insanely excited about it and my wonderful beta, Stencil Your Heart and I have been plotting back and forth extensively on the details, so look for that!**


	24. Sunset Strolls and Medical Mysteries

**A/N: Hello! I bring you an action-packed drama-filled chapter 24. Parts of this chapter were a lot of fun to write, in particular Steve and Sadie's adventure together! Please note that I didn't/couldn't find a lot of highly detailed information about the Paris catacombs so I embellished a little bit to suit my needs, hopefully it's not too glaringly awful!**

 **Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited and followed! I love your feedback and I love to see that y'all are excited to see how this story unfolds as we start inching towards the end. We've still got a little ways to go yet! I am, however, getting more questions about whether I plan to write a sequel. I do plan to go on, but where I drop in and how I write the sequel will depend 100% on where the MCU is in relation to when I finish Songbirds. But, I do have an idea of what I want to write it's just a matter of picking the right time and ironing out the details.**

 **Special thanks to my wonderful-beyond-words beta Stencil Your Heart for whipping this chapter into shape. Typical warnings for language and violence!**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Cap.**

 **Chapter 24 – Sunset Strolls and Medical Mysteries**

To the uninformed observer, the sight of a man and woman walking arm-in-arm down a quiet Paris street hardly aroused suspicion. Upon closer inspection a casual passerby might notice the attractiveness of the couple, noting his unusually broad shoulders and her small waist. She walked the way most enamored young women did, on the arm of her lover, allowing him to lead the way down the street as dusk descended over the city. Every so often she glanced up at her companion looking, to the untrained eye, rather lovingly up at him as though he'd hung the stars and moon for her. The man on her arm smiled down at her from beneath the brim of his hat and tightened his arm just a fraction to ensure her closeness. The man carried a briefcase, a handsome leather covered case with a gold and leather handle. This briefcase, combined with their fine dress and the handsome wedding rings they wore, painted a lovely picture against the detailed architecture. To any civilian and German occupying soldier alike, this particular couple raised no concern as they passed down the street. What they saw was the picture of young love: a woman walking home with her husband at the end of a particularly long workday.

Perhaps she had met him for dinner at a café around the corner from their place. Possibly she'd even dropped by his office unannounced to surprise him with a kiss and the promise of a meal waiting on the table at home. Maybe they'd discussed their respective days, pretending that all was well under the watchful gaze of the Nazi soldiers that prowled the streets. They would waltz into their apartment building just before curfew and hole up in their cozy home to wait out another night, trying not to be afraid for the coming dawn. A stranger might wonder if this couple lived in ignorant bliss of the revolution that was gaining steam under their very feet.

A trained eye would know better.

Someone looking close enough might notice the way the man carried his briefcase just a little too casually, as though it were completely empty. The woman's eyes were tight, vigilant as she walked arm in arm with her husband, keeping an almost white-knuckled grip on his arm. From beneath the brim of her adorned hat she took notice of every guard, every civilian, and anyone who looked even remotely suspicious. Her partner did the same, tightening his hold on her to bring her closer anytime they passed the city's occupiers. When she looked up at him it wasn't to gaze at him the way a young lover would, it was to gauge his reaction. Was he nervous? Did the presence of so many Nazi soldiers worry him in the slightest? How on earth were they going to pick the lock of Arnim Zola's apartment without being caught? What was happening with the rest of the Commandos in the city?

But most importantly, the fourth time Sadie looked up at Steve on the street it was to ask a rather important question.

"When was the last time you went on a date?"

"Uh, I don't know," said Steve cagily. "Why?"

"Because you're walking with me like you've never done this before."

Sadie didn't mean to be so blunt but the truth was what it was; Steve Rogers had all the fluidity of a street lamp. She eased her grip on his forearm to lay her fingers on him the way she touched Bucky, though it felt completely and utterly foreign to her. Where her body and Bucky's seemed naturally attuned and were nothing short of a perfect fit, Sadie felt out of sorts with Steve. He was at least and inch and a half too tall, leaving their heights poorly matched. Sadie couldn't quite find the rhythm of his stride.

It was more than physical differences, Sadie lamented. Steve's woeful lack of experience with women showed in more ways than one. When Bucky walked with Sadie he knew to moderate his stride, allowing her shorter legs to keep up. He responded naturally to her every move, as though he'd anticipated each and every one. And moreover, he enjoyed having Sadie on his arm, keeping her at just the right distance to show her off to the world while putting out a firm signal that she was his, deterring any man foolish enough to try. Steve didn't possess any kind of innate understanding of how to be on a date. His stride was too long for Sadie, forcing her to take almost two full steps to his one to keep up, her high heels not helping the situation in the slightest. When they wove through people or turned corners, his tight grasp on her forced her shoulder to jostle into his, which made for stiff movement and even more problems keeping up.

"I've been on dates before," muttered Steve in a rather defensive tone that gave more away than he likely intended.

Sadie desperately wanted to ask if those were dates that Bucky set up for him but she wisely held her tongue. Instead she put her focus on doing what she could to relax her partner. "Try to loosen up. I'm not going to suddenly disappear. Just, relax your shoulders and slow down a touch. We're supposed to be on romantic stroll, not marching headlong into a fight."

Steve exhaled but did as she instructed. Easing the pace and tension in his shoulders immediately mitigated some the awkwardness. He made a face of surprise that brought a playful grin to Sadie's lips. "Alright," he admitted in defeat, recognizing that he was way out of his depth. "What else do you got?"

Sadie recalled the little details of things she noticed with Bucky and previous dates. "Couples talk to each other," she reasoned. "When Bucky walks me from the hospital or when we're out for dinner we're almost always talking. He likes to tell me stories about your misadventures growing up to make me laugh."

Steve chuckled. "He's always been better at this stuff. The first date I went on I think I was fifteen. And I was really nervous, you know? Bucky set the whole thing up because I was too shy to ask the girl out and he thought a little poking things along would help."

"Did it?"

"Nah, I ended up accidentally spilling half my coke onto her lap and then got into a fight with the guy who tried to talk to her when she came out of the bathroom. All I went home with was a bloody nose and a black eye." Sadie tried to imagine the smaller Steve Rogers struggling his way through a date, realizing that before the serum he'd likely never garnered much attention in his life. Bucky had said something to that effect once, joking that he was glad he met her before Steve did these days, otherwise he wouldn't have stood a chance.

"Well, at least you got the worst date out of the way first?" She suggested with a hopeful note, smiling up at him. The smile didn't feel quite so forced now that they were treading in familiar waters once more.

"I wish," scoffed Steve as he glanced to all four corners of the intersection they were approaching. Judging from the cross streets, Sadie knew they had to be nearing Zola's apartment building. "But it doesn't even crack the top five of my worst dates. What about you, any horror stories to make me feel better?"

"Hmm," she mused playfully while allowing Steve to lead them across one street before turning left to head down another. The sun was beginning to sink into the city skyline. "I've never had anything spilled on me or a fight break out, but I had a date accidentally give me a bloody lip." Steve chortled in disbelief. "It's true! The summer before I started nursing school I went to dinner and the movies with the son of one of my mother's friends and we ended up having a really nice time. Anyway, he walked me to my front door and was just about to kiss me when my father yanked the front door open and poor Charlie panicked and ended up hitting my mouth and splitting my lip."

Steve's full-bellied laughter rose up towards the still-blue sky. Sadie smiled begrudgingly, recognizing the humor in her unfortunate mishap. At the time she hadn't felt so cavalier about the situation, especially about having to turn up at church with a swollen lower lip.

"That's pretty bad. Does Bucky know that one?"

"No," she replied sharply. "And if you tell him I'll never forgive you, Captain. There are some things a girl likes to keep to herself."

"I won't tell," swore Steve. "Besides, I don't think Bucky wants to hear about you kissing other guys. I've got a hard time imagining you with anyone else anyway."

At this point in her life, so did Sadie. She kept the thought to herself and instead opened her mouth to make a snappy comeback when Steve's pace slowed another fraction. He lowered his chin to speak to her just she lifted hers to see a knot of three Nazi solders ahead of them, casting furtive glances their direction. Sadie knew there was no point in trying to cross the empty street, if they did it would only make them look all the more guilty.

"You ready?" Steve asked and Sadie swallowed hard when one of the soldiers broke away from his comrades and swaggered towards them.

"As I'll ever be," she murmured and slid her hand higher up his arm, pretending she hadn't seen the officer walking towards them. Steve bowed his head in a protective way and Sadie fervently wished he had his shield to make short work of the three goons on the street.

A shout reached her ears. The soldier's French was appalling, which worked in Sadie's favor; she could speak enough to be conversational but she was far from fluent. Any native speaker would likely catch onto that straight off, but not the twenty-some odd year old solider who clumsily asked the pair where they were going. Steve couldn't understand a word of what she was saying as she told the soldier that she and her husband were on their way home. Sadie moved her arm out of Steve's and slid it around his firm waist, making a point to lay her left hand on Steve's chest to show off the wedding band. Mercifully, Steve caught on quick and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer against him. Nothing felt more foreign in Sadie's entire life than being cozied up to Steve Rogers, but to his credit he took her hand on his chest and gave it a squeeze, making a big show of having eyes only for her.

The soldier shifted his weight to look between the two of them before he asked Sadie where they were going. That he didn't think to address Steve was a small miracle in and of itself and Sadie hurriedly rattled off the block containing Zola's building. For several heart-pounding seconds the soldier sized them up, taking in the briefcase in Steve's hand, the wedding rings, the simple civilian clothes they wore and the fact that Steve looked like he could beat all three men up without breaking a sweat.

At last he stepped aside with the order to obey the nine o'clock curfew. Sadie promised they would and with a flourish in her movement, she rose to her toes and pressed a kiss to Steve's cheek before beginning to lead him away.

" _Viens, mon cher,_ " she ordered in a playful, suggestive tone that left little to the soldier's imagination. Steve flushed slightly pink but went along with Sadie and as soon as they were out of ear shot he found his voice once more.

"What did you tell them?"

"That we were newlyweds headed home for the remainder of the evening. After he let us pass I told you to come along, my dear." The double entendre did not escape Steve and he coughed to cover his surprise. Sadie rolled her eyes, not nearly as flummoxed by the concept of sex as Steve. "Isn't that basically what all newlyweds do? If letting that guard's mind tumble right into the gutter helps us get away free and clear then I'm just fine letting him thing what he wants."

"You're more devious than I gave you credit for, Sade," Steve muttered, shaking his head.

Sadie shrugged and leaned her head against Steve to keep up appearances, aware that they were still within eyesight of the soldiers. "It's not just me. Peggy and I devised the strategy together."

Steve went oddly, tellingly quiet after that. Together they continued down the block, taking one final right turn to face a handsome five story apartment building. Sadie immediately recognized the building from the recon photos she'd reviewed in preparation for the mission. Her eyes tracked up from the bottom floor to the third story, and the fourth small balcony to the right. The air in her lungs stilled and her stomach clenched in anticipation.

"Here's hoping we get lucky," muttered Steve and together they crossed the street.

X X X

Once inside the building, Steve led Sadie up the stairs to apartment 307. Her high heels echoed on the tiled stairs before reaching a carpeted landing that stretched down the length of the hall. As soon as they were in the hallway, both of them dropped their façade and Sadie glanced behind her shoulder before looking down the hallway.

"No elevators."

"Or an easy way out except the front," said Steve under his breath. "We'll have to be quick."

They halted at the door and Sadie whirled about to press her back against the wall, partially to block Steve but also to keep her eyes on both ends of the hallway. Quietness enveloped them, allowing her to hear her hammering heart. Steve reached into his jacket and pulled out a small canvas pouch.

"Keep watch," muttered Steve as he crouched down. He flipped open the top of the pouch to reveal a lock pick set.

"Have you ever done this before?" Sadie enquired, letting her eyes drift down either side of the hall.

"I practiced at the bunker a few times." Concentration tightened Steve's voice. He inserted the thin tension wrench into the bottom of the lock and applied gentle pressure. The jagged-shaped lock pick seemed insufficient to unlock the door and Sadie raised an eyebrow, trying not to lose her focus on watch as Steve began scrubbing the pick back and forth to set the pins in the lock. "I also practiced on my door and on Bucky's door."

Sadie smirked. "I'll bet he loved that."

"Actually he doesn't know," muttered Steve. "I waited until he was out with you."

"Has anyone told you that you can be quite underhanded when you want to be?" Sadie wondered aloud and Steve smirked, shaking his head once as he continued to work the lock.

"My mother. Bucky. My teachers at school. Growing up I had to get creative to get ahead; sometimes that meant doing things a little differently."

"Like lying on your enlistment forms?" Sadie mused, not bothering to tame the judgment in her voice.

"Bucky needs to learn to keep his mouth shut," murmured Steve and she grinned, checking either end of the hallway once more. "It worked in the end, didn't it?"

"It certainly did," said Sadie, remembering the picture she'd seen of Steve in his medical file and the laundry list of conditions he had prior to receiving the serum. For a while they remained silent. Steve fumbled the pins and had to start over, readjusting the torque he placed on the tension wrench and easing his speed as he scrubbed the pick. A new thought came to her and she raised an eyebrow, looking down at the sweat beading at Steve's temples, all because he was trying to pick a lock he didn't really need to pick. "Why not just break it?"

"Don't want to raise suspicion. If someone were to walk by and see the lock was broken and the door open, it could raise an alarm and push Zola underground again. Also, I hate causing unnecessary property damage."

Sadie clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggle. "How many HYDRA factories have you and the boys destroyed since February?"

Steve scowled. "That is completely beside the point and-eureka!"

The tumblers gave and Steve turned the lock. With a metallic click, the lock slid open. Steve traded the lock pick set for a pistol inside his jacket and motioned for her to move behind him. They traded one last look and he nodded once before grasping the doorknob and slowly turning it. Mercifully, the door swung open silently and led into a still, deserted space. Steve moved in first, hands steady on his pistol as he checked the entire apartment. Sadie followed, holding the briefcase. She shut the door behind them and locked it, just as they'd discussed.

Doctor Arnim Zola's apartment was small but stately, with rich wood-paneled walls and windows that opened out over a small street café and neighboring bistro. On the third floor it was too low to reveal the breathtaking Parisian skyline, but Sadie suspected it still cost a pretty penny to keep and she wondered why he hadn't given up on it yet. Perhaps he paid up front or went on in the vain hope that one day he could return.

She trailed through the entryway into a sitting room. Double doors opened into an office in which sat a magnificent claw-footed desk, flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Without thinking much about it, she trailed into the study and used the waning daylight to read the spines of the books that crammed the shelves, brushing her fingertips lightly over the wearing leather and peeling gold lettering of the older tomes. Though several books were written in different language, the majority of them were written in English and Sadie recognized several from her own studies. Medical reference books, anatomy guides and physiology manuals all stuffed the shelves along with medical textbooks on disease, surgical technique, and general medicine practice. Sadie's eyes trailed past the major publications on psychiatry, psychology, mental disorders, and even books on defunct psychological practices. A model of the human head sat on one shelf, the various areas of the brain labeled for phrenology, perched right next to multiple books written by Freud.

Over her shoulder, Sadie spied pull-down charts and she dared to tempt fate. When she pulled down she wasn't disappointed to find large reference posters of the human body, in full anatomical positioning and hand-tipped with beautiful precision and labeled in German. She almost caught herself admiring the charts of the muscular and nervous systems. During her time with the SSR, Sadie had treated several prisoners of war in France and picked up a little bit of German along the way. She recognized a handful of the labels for the various muscles and nerves and she could easily translate the rest just from the muscles and nerves the labels represented.

"What were you doing?" She asked the invisible Zola, as though he could hear from wherever he was. All thoughts of the mission fled her brain, replaced by scientific curiosity. Another set of bookshelves revealed even more troubling titles. "Hypnosis, subliminal messaging, cognitive suggestion, what on earth?"

"Sadie?" Steve appeared in the doorway. "What are you seeing?"

"An entire medical school crammed into one office," she replied, feeling more grim by the passing second. "I've never seen so many diverse titles in one place. It's like he's determined to know as much as he can about as much as he can - if that makes any sense," she lamented.

"Kind of," he replied, though he sounded less than convinced. "Are you alright to search here? I'll start in the bedroom and bathroom."

"No problem, Captain." Sadie's voice was far away already as she turned back to the desk. Setting the briefcase on the leather topped desk, Sadie took a tentative seat in the fine leather chair. One by one she started to go through the drawers, checking for files, paperwork, pictures, and even knocking on the bottom of the drawers for the sound of a hollow bottom or secret compartment. Drawer after drawer she came up empty handed with the exception of an old revolver and a notebook filled with a list of indecipherable characters and languages Sadie didn't understand.

Sadie lifted the rug around the desk and checked beneath it only to come up short. By now it was dark and she drew the thick curtains so she could turn on the lights, bathing the study in a soft glow. Under the lights she stared at the desk and cursed under her breath. In the other room she could hear Steve going through drawers and overturning things. Sadie's eyes flickered back to the bookshelves and then stopped short. Raising her finger, she traced the spines of the books. Their uneven heights made a sort of skyline on each shelf, some tomes soaring over the others like skyscrapers until she came to a series of books with different titles all the exact same height and width.

"There's no way," she muttered to herself but went to the bookcase to the right of the desk all the same. Set higher than the others, she had to rise to the tips of her toes to put her hand on top of the books and withdrew sharply. A splinter stuck out from her finger which she pulled out swiftly, hissing at the sting. The top of the set of books was flat and made of wood. Sadie felt like she was living in a moment from Sherlock Holmes and half expected the bookcase to crack open, leading to a secret passageway when she grasped the false front and pulled. The front came free.

"Bedroom and bathroom are clear," said Steve as he came back to the doorway.

"I found something," she muttered and he strode in after her. Reaching with greater ease, Steve removed the contents of the hidden compartment and carried them to the desk - a stack of thick files and a small leather-covered case. She took the first file off the stack and flipped it open. A picture of a young man was clipped to the inside of the file. On the other side, Sadie recognized the familiar format. "It's a medical chart."

"What do you make of it?" Steve asked. Sadie furrowed her brow and she thumbed through the pages.

"Most of it is in German, but I can tell you he wasn't doing routine checkups." Sadie showed Steve a page that set forth a list of familiar words and numbers and time stamps. "This is a list of drugs the patient received along with dosage and date."

"Can you tell what the drugs were used for?" Steve asked, peering further over her shoulder.

"Some of these are fairly standard. Sodium Chloride to prevent dehydration. Penicillin, but in this dosage it's hard to tell why without translating the rest of the chart. Promethazine, which could be for nausea but it's also sometimes used as an anti-psychotic. Then there's lysergic acid diethylamide, which I've heard of but don't know much about. There was a study published earlier this year about its unusual side effects including hallucinations, but it's not a drug we use in the Army." Sadie traced her finger along the list, noting the dates and times. "It looks like these drugs were administered over the course of a few weeks, especially the promethazine and the lysergic acid. I can't know for sure but it looks like Zola waited until one drug synthesized before administering the other. Perhaps they interact poorly with one another."

Steve's frown mirrored her own. "What else can you tell?"

Sadie skimmed the pages, looking for familiar numbers and universal indicators. "Zola's scribbled the patient's vitals at the top of each page and they're all over the board. This much fluctuation is unusual. If he was sick I'd expect to see a steady improvement or decline depending on the condition but not so much up and down, unless," her voice dropped off in horror. She shut the file so she could open to the last page and her heart dropped.

Sadie knew very little German but the unusually specific date and time stamp combined with the word _Verstorbene_ and no other information made her blood run cold. She snatched the next file and the next, flipping to the final pages to see the same word marked with a different date and time. "Dead," she whispered. "They're all dead."

Following Sadie's initial actions, Steve turned another chart to a page that showed the body diagram of a different patient. Sadie tried to decipher the notes, latching onto a different drug. "Why the hell would he be using phenobarbital?"

"Pheno-what?"

The picture forming in Sadie's head grew darker and worse by the passing second. Lifting her eyes, she looked across the room to the bookshelf packed with manuals on hypnosis and psychology. "Phenobarbital," she repeated in a faraway voice, watching as the pieces arranged themselves into place. "It's a barbiturate. Doctors use it to treat seizures."

She lunged for another file and flipped it open, scanning the pages until she hit the list of used drugs. "Sodium Chloride, Penicillin, and," she almost dropped the folder in surprise. "I know what he was doing. I know exactly what he was doing," she muttered.

Sadie set the file down and reached for the leather case. Snapping open the burnished brass latch, she pushed the lid open to reveal over half a dozen glass vials resting inside specific slots. One by one she pulled them out until she found the one she wanted. Turning the bottle over, she read the label and sighed.

"Scopolamine," she read and referred back to the chart to check the dosage.

"What is that?"

"It's an anti-nausea drug. It's not even available for prescription yet but in such a high dosage I doubt Zola was using it to calm his patient's upset stomach. In this kind of dosage it's known to wipe memories and make patients highly suggestible."

"You mean mind control?" Sadie didn't imagine the shock and horror in Steve's voice. She wondered if his brain was racing to the same conclusion she was. As she stared at the bottle, her mind leapt to another medical chart, one of several she knew by memory.

 _"Patient has spent multiple days in solitary confinement. Needle marks on the inside of right and left elbows indicate multiple injections or withdrawals. Patient indicates that the doctor on site took several samples of blood and administered sedatives on a regular basis. Patient appears to exhibit no unusual symptoms and claims no other substances were used or injected."_

"He lied," she whispered, staring down at the charts.

"Who lied?" Steve asked, desperate to keep up with the leaps and bounds of her brain.

"Bucky," she said suddenly as a foreign burn smoldered in her chest. "Doctor Zola wasn't just keeping him for observation like he told the doctor. If I could read German I could confirm all of this for you but looking at the unusual fluctuation in vital signs, the even more unusual drugs and dosage, combined with everything I'm seeing in this office? Doctor Zola was experimenting on his patients and testing their mental strength. Keeping them in isolation, depriving them of adequate nutrition and sleep, using drugs to induce hallucinations, treating for seizures and panic, it's more than physical torture - it's mental. Like he was trying to see how far he could push until his patient broke. And I bet you anything Bucky was his first patient that didn't break." Shaking her head she put the vial of scopolamine back in the case and shut it, unable to look at it anymore.

"So Zola is using prisoners," Steve started to say and Sadie's heart clenched.

"To refine his technique," she spat. "For whatever it is that he's trying to do."

Steve shook his head. "I know that he worked with Schmidt on the first super soldier serum but that didn't exactly go as planned."

"Schmidt is unstable and uncontrollable," muttered Sadie, rubbing the back of her neck. "So what if Zola is trying to repeat the physical success of the serum without the mental side-effects? Or testing possible subjects before administering the serum?"

"I don't know," replied Steve, his voice hard. "But if all that's true, why wouldn't Bucky say anything?"

"Why would he?" She countered. "He came back seemingly fine. In my experience patients tend to lie about things that don't seem important. Maybe he was worried he'd get dragged to another lab or taken off the front line." Sadie glanced at tall and broad Steve Rogers. "Maybe he didn't want to appear weak in front of his childhood best friend."

"Or the woman he loves," mused Steve and Sadie's stomach twisted, though she knew he was right. Sadie stared at the charts and the medicines and blinked hard. For months on end she'd done an excellent job of pretending as though Bucky's three weeks of torture never happened. Bucky only helped her fantasy along by never talking about it, shielding her from the brutal reality and now she felt the guilt burning her insides. Why hadn't he disclosed the experiments to the doctor at the 80th? Why would he keep something so crucial a secret for so long? What was Bucky so afraid of that he couldn't tell her or worse, that he couldn't tell the man standing next to her, his brother for all intents and purposes? But more than anything Sadie was angry with herself for not realizing it sooner, for not trying to parse out the truth and blindly accepting his stonewalling. "Sadie?"

A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she shook her head. "He was all alone for days on end. When he came back I was just so happy he was alive that I didn't think," she dropped off, brushing her fingers uselessly atop the case.

"There's nothing you could have done anyways, Sade. And whatever happened he got through it. The best we can do is take all of this with us and hope there are more clues somewhere in this apartment to tell us where Zola is so we can catch him and stop him. To keep him from doing this," Steve jabbed the top file on the desk, "to anyone else."

Sadie nodded. Together she and Steve put the files and bottles in the suitcase before checking the rest of the bookshelves together. When they came up empty handed they started to go through the living room. A heavy silence hung over them and Sadie wondered whether Steve carried the same guilt she did. Not long before the mission she'd told Bucky he was entitled to his secrets, but she never meant for him to bottle all of his captive time up, to hide it away from the world to his own possible detriment. By not telling the doctors he'd been given a mystery cocktail of drugs by who knew what means, he'd put himself at risk. What side effects should the doctor have been looking for? What if Bucky had an adverse reaction to medications thanks to what happened to him in Azzano? The possibilities for complications and problems, however remote, dazzled Sadie.

The more she thought about not catching the signs and blithely letting Bucky skate by on his omission, the worse Sadie felt. At last she and Steve cleared the kitchen and sitting room, disappointed to find only the same maps they'd already seen, which joined the charts and medicine in the briefcase. Sadie followed Steve out of the apartment and shut the door gently behind her, feeling as disappointed as Steve looked. They'd wanted more. More information on his whereabouts, more details on what was to come, and something other than confirmation of Bucky's dishonesty to bring back to the person they both cared about so deeply.

By the time they stepped onto the dark street it was well past curfew and Sadie followed Steve's quiet order to stay close. She let him do the hard work while her thoughts tangled themselves up in a frenetic, confused knot. Her high heels were the only sound she heard as they moved down the planned route to the rendezvous point they shared with Bucky and Peggy. Steve checked his watch.

"We're going to be right on time," he muttered of their planned meeting time.

"Good," she whispered though she didn't feel it. For the first time ever she dreaded seeing Bucky, knowing she was going to come to him empty-handed.

They still had three blocks to go when the sound of footfall behind them piqued both their ears. A voice reached through the stillness, heavy and German-accented.

"Quick," muttered Steve without thinking. Sadie barely had time to keep up with his movement as he backed her out of the light and into the opening of a narrow alley between buildings. Sadie knew Steve meant to hide. "I don't know if they saw us."

"Well, just in case," she muttered and grasped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him close to her. Her back hit the brick wall behind her and part of Steve's weight collapsed against her in surprise. Steadying himself with one hand near her head, he seemed confused as to what to do next. "Lean in."

Sadie curled her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, tipping her chin up and to the side so she could keep a watch on the opening of the alley through barely open eyes. She felt Steve's stilted breath against her neck as he realized what she was doing. Following her lead, he slid a large hand over her waist that didn't quite fit and he began whispering orders in her ear to make it look as though he were kissing along her neck.

"If we're caught up in a fight, run to the rendezvous point. Don't stop to try and help, don't hesitate, just run and don't look back."

The order came as no surprise. She nodded just as a loud voice breached the alley. "He's not gonna let us leave without searching us," she whispered.

"Maybe he's alone. I can try and get the drop on him."

Sadie caught Steve's hand. Rising up higher to her toes, she lowered his palm to the hem of her skirt and pushed beneath it. Steve's head snapped up in surprise when his palm skimmed over the outside of her thigh. If they stood in full light, Sadie would have been able to see him turn tomato red. Undeterred by his flabbergasted reaction, Sadie guided his hand higher.

"This should be a surprise," she muttered as she pressed his hand over the gun at her thigh. Understanding dawned on him and he curled his hand around the thigh grip.

"That'll definitely work," replied Steve as he pulled back and stared down into her face. "Guess we gotta make it look good."

He leaned back down and stepped just a fraction closer to her, leaving a narrow gap between their bodies. Moving back down he nudged her head out of the way and she felt his breath on her neck, shallow with anticipation. Footsteps grew louder and Sadie tried to ignore the furious hammer of her heart while she pushed her fingers into Steve's hair, doing her best to look like a young woman caught up in the heat of the moment.

Sadie only caught a handful of the German the Nazi soldier yelled at them as he came within striking distance. A rough hand landed on Steve's arm and the soldier ripped Steve away just as he pulled the one-shot pistol from the holster and brought it up, shoving the barrel into the man's chest and firing. The close proximity of the shot only barely muffled the sound of gunfire. The soldier went down in a heap, whether dead or alive, Sadie had no idea.

"Go!" Steve roared and together they took off, turning the sharp corner out of the alley.

More shouting reached her ears. Her stride wasn't nearly long enough to keep up with Steve and he slowed down, looking over his shoulder to see four more soldiers running to the sound of gunfire and then to the couple fleeing the scene. Sadie shrieked in surprise when a bullet zoomed ahead of them. Steve made up his mind in an instant and ground to a halt. He shoved the briefcase into her hands.

"I'll hold them off, go!"

Sadie did exactly as Steve ordered. She didn't stop and she didn't hesitate. Steve leapt into the fray with four soldiers, allowing Sadie to take off, running into the night.

X X X

"You know, all in all, I thought that went rather well," said Peggy as she and Bucky ducked off the street and into the long alley between buildings. She carried a briefcase now heavy with information which, once translated, Peggy hoped would reveal more about Schmidt's grand plans. "Let's hope that Captain Rogers and Nurse Reid were as lucky in their endeavors.

Bucky loosened the oppressive knot of his tie and unbuttoned his jacket to allow some air to breathe into the finely spun wool suit he wore. The garments, provided by Howard, were of nicer quality than anything Bucky had ever owned, but in the warm Parisian night he was roasting beneath the shirt, waistcoat, and jacket. Popping the top button of his shirt open, he considered his partner in crime. "We did make a pretty good team."

"We did," said Peggy in surprising agreement.

For the longest time Bucky just assumed that Peggy didn't particularly care for him. He owed much of that to their first, awkward meeting where she made it abundantly clear to him she had no time for his flirtations. Bucky took the rejection well enough considering he hadn't meant it in the slightest. But Peggy made up her mind a little too easily about people in general and made the quick assumption that he was like every other GI on the planet, ready to leap at a shot with any woman who'd give him the time of day.

But her misgivings aside, they did make a rather effective team. Peggy flawlessly talked their way out of a checkpoint while Bucky fell into character, simply by pretending the brunette on his arm was someone else entirely. If Peggy had been just a touch shorter she might have even almost meshed well with him the way Sadie did, especially when he walked with his arm around her shoulder. Aside from the single checkpoint they met no resistance at all, not even in the abandoned house, which was far more dusty than dangerous.

Together they ripped through the place like a well-orchestrated storm, checking every nook and cranny until they recovered maps, plans, rosters, and even recon photographs of bases that Bucky had never seen before. The goldmine of intelligence was something they both hoped to use to plan the next phase of attack, fleshing out the missing holes in the web of HYDRA facilities that crisscrossed the continent.

"What time is it?" She asked and Bucky checked his watch, under the beam of light from the lamp that hung over a back door.

"Couple minutes to go," said Bucky. "And Steve's always late so we should probably give them a time cushion."

Peggy nodded and double-checked that their entry into the catacombs was free and clear. "Do you think they found anything?"

Bucky scowled. "I hope so. Anything to run down and nail the bastard."

"You really hate him, don't you?" Peggy surmised.

"Spend a couple days with him and I dare you not to hate him too," groused Bucky thinking of the endless hours he spent strapped down. Thinking about it caused his muscles to twitch, remembering the numbness and the pain that went with immobility.

"There's every possibility in the world that they won't find anything,; Dr. Zola hasn't been to this flat in months," said Peggy tentatively, already preparing Bucky for eventual disappointment. "He also doesn't strike me as a careless man."

Bucky remembered how Zola wrote down everything during his experimentations. Every new procedure, every reaction, probably even every scream of Bucky's, clinical and cold in the face of another man's pain. Somewhere out there, Zola had an entire file on Bucky, one of his failed experiments though not for lack of trying. Wiping his face, Bucky tried to scrub the thoughts from his mind. Instead he checked his watch again.

"They should be here any minute."

Peggy pushed open the door that led down into the catacombs. When he peered over her shoulder he could see a dim light flickering at the base of the ladder. Bucky wasn't particularly thrilled by the catacombs; being underground wasn't exactly something he enjoyed, even at the SSR Bunker, but even he had to admit the tunnels were dead useful.

Bucky checked his watch again and scowled. "Now they're late."

"I'm sure they're fine," Peggy assured him but Bucky couldn't let himself feel the same confidence until he saw Sadie and Steve alive and unharmed.

The same restlessness he'd been wrestling for weeks crept back into the forefront of his mind. Drops of anxiety trickled into his bloodstream until his muscles twitched uncomfortably and he had to pace to release even a little bit of the tension. Peggy watched him carefully, only worsening Bucky's nerves. He hated this. The waiting and not knowing took him back to another time altogether, to Italy and to going months without hearing from Steve and one night in particular that he spent not knowing if Sadie was alive or dead. Cold fear clenched over his heart, locking in a vice grip. The ice around his heart froze his lungs causing a miniature struggle for every breath he took. He remembered Steve's promise to stay with Sadie and the fact that Steve was a more than competent fighter and that Sadie was the most level-headed, quick-thinking human being he'd ever met.

Even when Steve and Sadie came back from their mission, Bucky knew his relief would be short-lived. In the morning the quartet would scatter to their respective duties. Peggy would head off to liaise with military intelligence, Sadie would join with the aide team to provide medical relief to the embattled French Resistance and Bucky would follow Steve back into the jaws of battle. None of it appealed to Bucky. More than anything he wanted this night and his time in Paris to end when the sun came up.

"Sergeant Barnes?" Peggy's soft voice cut through his grim thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," said Bucky, wiping the clammy sweat off his face. "I just wanna get this over with."

The loud clatter of footsteps shattered the quiet in the alley. As one, Bucky and Peggy reached for their guns. A silhouette appeared in the alley, possessing a feminine shape. With every stride the full skirt of her dress bounced around her legs and she carried a briefcase in one hand, causing an awkward stilt to her stride. Bucky started to lower his gun until another figure appeared in the alleyway, immediately behind the woman. Her body obscured his but she shrieked when he reached for the skirt of her dress.

Sadie went down hard.

Bucky could hear Peggy start to lurch forward to get to her but his mind went utterly blank. Gripping his pistol he raised it and didn't even think about squeezing the trigger.

X X X

Sadie had never run so hard in her entire life. Her legs screamed from the exertion, timed perfectly with her wheezing lungs, but she didn't stop. Behind her she could hear her pursuer shouting in German, a stray who managed to break away from the fight with Steve. The man was taller than she was and she knew he would eventually catch up to her. That was if she didn't drop dead from overexertion first.

Both the briefcase in her hand and her high heels made running even more difficult. Taking a sharp right, she sprinted down the street where she saw the turnoff to the alleyway. Salvation was in sight because if she knew anything about Peggy Carter she knew that the woman managed to get Bucky to arrive at the rendezvous point five minutes early. Their presence was her only hope of scraping out of this mess alive because there was no way Steve could catch up in time to save her now. Her lead diminished with every stride until she heard the soldier right behind her, so close he could almost touch her. Sadie nearly skidded off course and fell when she turned the corner, slowing down just enough to put herself within reach. She only made it a quarter of the way down the alley when the soldier eliminated the gap.

Fingers closed over the skirt of her dress. The case in Sadie's hand went flying forward, skidding to a halt several feet away. She cried out as she fell. Rough pavement tore her stockings and ripped her dress, scraping along her bare leg and arm. Barely taking a millisecond to consider the stinging pain that erupted all over her, she reached out and tried to drag herself a couple of feet forward so she could get up. A hand locked over her ankle.

The soldier dragged her backwards, rolling her onto her back in the process. Cold fear gripped her heart. Grunting from the exertion of the run, he lumbered up to his feet, still holding onto her ankle. He opened his mouth to speak and she barely caught half his taunt before his head snapped back from the force of the shot that rang out through the alley. He staggered backwards not even half a step before he collapsed in a heap, a bullet buried square between his eyes.

A cry of horror died on her lips when she swiveled back to identify her savior. Bucky walked down the alley, his arms outstretched and pistol locked onto a new target. Fury like she'd never seen before contorted his normally handsome face. She almost didn't recognize him in his state and might not have if not for Peggy who lowered her gun to run to Sadie.

The second soldier, greatly winded, turned the corner. He didn't even have an opportunity to raise his gun before Bucky popped off two shots one right after the other. The soldier went down hard, thumping to the ground with sickening finality. Sadie's stomach rolled.

"Are you alright?" Peggy asked, helping Sadie sit up and putting an arm around her shoulder.

Sadie didn't even realize the depths of her trauma until she tried to speak. When she opened her mouth the words wouldn't come out and she turned her face into Peggy's shoulder. A shiver ripped down her spine and Peggy held her closer.

"Sadie, where's Steve?" Peggy asked in a gentle but firm voice, trying her best not to outright command the answer from her.

Sadie turned her face back to the alley, back to where Bucky stood waiting for a response, gun still raised to shoot anything that came around the corner next. Vitriol and fury sifted off him in waves, so powerful that she tasted the bitterness in her mouth from fresh fear. In that moment Sadie was afraid of Bucky, afraid of what he'd done and what she hadn't realized he was capable of doing.

"We were ambushed," she said hoarsely. Bucky's head twitched just barely in acknowledgement. His foot slid back a step and then another until he was right next to them and he crouched down, not taking his eyes off the opening of the alley for even a second. "He told me to run, that was maybe three blocks down our route."

"The two of you need to get underground," said Bucky mechanically, in complete soldier-mode. "Don't wait for us, just get to the rendezvous building and safety. I'll go catch up with Steve."

"Sadie, are you alright to walk?" Peggy asked.

The feeling was returning to Sadie's body and she nodded. "I've been through worse," she promised, thinking about the bombs that rained over her in Italy. With Peggy's help she got to her feet and ignored the scrapes that stung and pulled when she straightened up. "Bucky?"

Bucky tore his gaze away from the alley to glance at her, dropping his soldier façade just enough to let her see that he was utterly raw. With no credence to Peggy whatsoever, he moved forward and pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. "Go," he said. "Just, go."

He didn't want to let her out of his sight, of that much Sadie was absolutely certain. She was also loathe to let him out of hers, too scared that he would walk into the night and not return. She watched him for a few more paces before Peggy's beckoning forced her to turn away. Stooping to gather the briefcase, Sadie followed Peggy down the alley, through a door and down into a passageway that led into the catacombs. Lights swung overhead, guiding the two women through the twisting tunnels until at last they reached a man standing by, wearing a partially unbuttoned shirt and smoking a cigarette.

Peggy traded the code phrases with him and both women were directed through a wooden door and up a flight of stairs into the rendezvous point. An apothecary shop took up the front of the building and behind it a back room where the shop owners cleared away room for all manner of maps, medical supplies, and weapons.

"Come on, let's take a look at you," said Peggy.

Sadie's legs shook as she lowered herself into one chair. Her feet ached as she pushed her shoes off. When she started to push up her skirt to reveal the damage, she could see her hands trembling uncontrollably. Peggy's hands were surprisingly gentle as she grasped the hem of Sadie's skirt and pushed it out of the way to reveal runs in her stockings and deep scrapes along one of her legs along with a ripped garter strap.

"They need to come off so I can clean the wounds," murmured Sadie, lifting her chin to search for a first aid kit or any medical supplies in the room.

"Scoot forward," ordered Peggy. Once she reached the edge of the chair, Peggy reached beneath Sadie and undid the bottom straps and then the remaining top strap. Sadie hissed when Peggy peeled off the ruined silk, pulling threads out of her raw, bloody skin.

"What a waste of perfectly good silk," muttered Sadie with a shaky smile, trying to inject levity into the otherwise tense room. Peggy's lips played at a smile.

"I doubt anyone's going to care."

Once Sadie's legs were bare, Peggy went to work rummaging for medical supplies until she found the hydrogen peroxide and cotton pads as Sadie prescribed. When Peggy returned, Sadie took the bottle and pads. "I can do it," she promised, feeling better now that she was sitting. "I knew sooner or later I'd have to treat myself." Peggy looked at her dubiously and Sadie jerked her head to the door. "Go check the tunnel, see if the boys have made it back yet."

When Peggy disappeared, Sadie stared down at the scrapes. She could feel the microscopic grit digging into the wound and already her muscles were beginning to tighten up. Tomorrow would be worse but would be infinitely more awful if she got infected. With that knowledge in mind, Sadie unscrewed the hydrogen peroxide and soaked a cotton pad. A string of colorful curses she'd learned from Dum Dum escaped her lips as she applied the pad to her leg and began methodically cleaning the deep scrapes. Tears stung her lower eyelids, cutting through her makeup and not even remotely distracting her from the hideous stinging in her leg, a thousand bee stings at once.

After far too long and too many meticulous passes, Sadie was satisfied that her leg was clean and clear of debris. She waited for the hydrogen peroxide to dry before reaching for a clean swab and iodine to treat the skin surrounding her wound, more attempts to stave off infection. While she dabbed the iodine along her skin, Sadie realized that she was alone for the first time in what felt like forever. She could hear the beat of her heart, returned to a steady pace for the first time all night.

Sadie turned her attention to the rips in the sleeve of her dress and her arm and scowled. Unless she could single-handedly cut off the sleeve, she would have to undress herself to get to those particular scrapes.

"This is a lot easier on someone else," she muttered disparagingly to herself.

The door swung open and she flinched in response. Steve and Bucky burst into the room followed by an exasperated Peggy. A shallow cut on Steve's brow soaked his eyebrow in blood and he was sporting what promised to be a spectacular bruise around his left eye-socket. Bucky looked no worse for wear excepting the thunderous expression on his face. He shed his rumpled jacket almost immediately, revealing the shoulder holster he wore over his vest and shirt. His fingers were almost violent when he undid the holster and deposited it on the table. Sadie could see him humming in fury and every move he made was sharp and harsh. Peggy started to come to Sadie but she had to jump out of the way when Bucky came down on Sadie, taking her injured arm in his hands to inspect the deep scrapes that were oozing with blood. Bucky's already grim expression further darkened.

"That Nazi bastard," he spat under his breath. Sadie winced as he rotated her arm to get a better look, agitating her stiff muscles. "I ought to go back out there and shoot him again."

Sadie's breath hitched in her chest at the ire in his tone, something she'd never heard from him before. "Bucky, I'm fine."

"You're not fine," he snapped in reply, too far gone in his anger to realize what he was saying.

"I've been hurt worse before," she said gently in hopes that Bucky would remember these injuries were minor. Her plan backfired spectacularly as Bucky's jaw clenched so tight she could see the veins jumping out on the underside. Another vein pulsed at his temple. Dragging up memories of the bombing that nearly killed her only stoked the flames of Bucky's anger and he rounded on Steve before Sadie blinked. The captain slid one foot back to cement his weight, already prepared for the coming fight.

"Are you happy now? You drafted her into this circus and look what happened! What happened to everything's gonna be fine? What happened to I'll be with her the whole time?"

Steve opened his mouth to argue and Sadie balked at the notion she needed protecting, but Bucky wasn't interested in hearing any explanations. Instead he stomped over to the briefcase and cracked it open.

"Whatever you found must have been real fucking important," he was on the verge of shouting now. He ripped through the contents. "Maps? Medical files? What the hell is all of this? This is worth you two almost dying? This!"

Bucky threw one of the files at Steve who caught it before the edges cut into his face. Peggy started to go forward to diffuse the situation but Steve threw an arm out to stop her. "It's fine," he muttered, not taking his eyes off Bucky for once second.

Sadie wasn't stupid to the situation and she realized that Bucky had placed his body in front of her to shield her from Steve, as though this was all his fault. Her body protested as she gripped the armrests of the chair and got to her bare feet, feeling smaller than ever in comparison to the two towering men.

"Bucky." He flinched hard when she touched his shoulder. "Those files do matter. They tell us a lot about what Zola has been doing."

She backed away from Bucky when he turned the full force of his hard eyes on her. The fear she felt in the alley returned now as she looked into the face of a man she barely knew. Her Bucky was somewhere far away, buried beneath someone else. An echo of the gunshots in the alley returned to her now and she recoiled further. A hand filled hers.

"Let's go upstairs to one of the rooms. I'll help you clean up your arm."

Sadie had never been more grateful for Peggy Carter in her entire life. By the time both women reached the base of the staircase outside of the back room, the shouting had resumed in full force. Peggy remained silent and for that Sadie was immeasurably grateful. She suspected that the woman had nothing comforting to say but Sadie wasn't sure she wanted to hear it anyway. Once ensconced in one of the upstairs bedrooms, Peggy helped Sadie peel off the dress and then cleaned the scrapes on her arms.

"What did you two find?" Peggy asked after a while.

The shouting downstairs ceased. Sadie held her arm out so Peggy could wrap a light layer of bandages over the wound. "Medical files and vials of medicine. I can't say for sure until someone translates the files but it looks like Zola has been experimenting on prisoners, testing out their psychological limits and possibly looking into methods of mind control."

Peggy's face hardened. "Do you think that's what he did to Sergeant Barnes?"

Sadie couldn't look at her friend. "Yes, I do."

"We assumed as much, though I'd hoped we were wrong, though during his debriefing Sergeant Barnes stated he couldn't remember what happened. Fortunately he doesn't appear too worse for the wear."

"Doesn't he?" Sadie shot back, her voice breaking. Peggy tied off the bandage. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Sadie inspected her friend's handiwork, impressed by the neat lines and perfect pressure on her arm. She had no idea how many bandages she'd applied and changed over the last year but it was enough to know good work when she saw it. "You did a great job," she said softly and then shook her head. "Sometimes the wounds that cut the deepest are the ones you can't see."

Peggy said nothing. Instead she took stock of the bandages she brought with her and frowned. "I don't have enough for your leg and I think I saw extra clothing downstairs. I'll be right back."

Once again, Sadie found herself alone. Ignoring the aching parts of her body, she stuck her hand inside her bra and fished out her dog tags and necklace. She slipped her dog tags back on but halted when she started to put on her necklace. With still trembling fingers, she parsed out the songbird charm and rubbed her thumb over the shiny silver. Sadie could remember with exact clarity the apprehensive look on Bucky's face when he gave her the charm and his immense relief when she immediately took off her necklace so he could slide the songbird onto her silver chain, thrilled to have a little piece of him to carry with her in to Normandy.

Sadie thought about the countless hours they'd spend together since he came back from his imprisonment and all the moments she could have asked him the truth but didn't. Guilt gnawed at her, leeching deep into her bones as she tried to make sense of this huge oversight and how much of the blame belonged to her. Hadn't she been the one to tell Bucky he was entitled to his secrets? Only weeks ago she'd promised Bucky she wouldn't pry into what happened. When he was ready he would tell her but she'd never accounted for a rather glaring flaw in her plan.

Sadie never imagined that Bucky would lie.

Dropping her head in her hands, Sadie muffled a small sob. Beneath her the old mattress and bedframe creaked whens he shifted her weight. More than ever she wished she'd said no to Colonel Phillips and she wished she'd never been to Dr. Zola's apartment. A storm was coming; the dark clouds settled over her head in the small bedroom, threatening to spill a deluge of misery onto Sadie. She dreaded the thunderclaps that were now inevitable, of the fight with Bucky that was long overdue. Sadie couldn't put off this particular hurricane any longer. She wasn't even in the least bit surprised when the door opened and instead of Peggy the man in question shut the door softly behind him.

The worst of Bucky's hot flash temper had passed, most of it taken out on Steve. Their eyes met and she could see that he was mostly back to himself again and she recognized the worry on his face that softened his mouth and eased the hard line of his jaw. In his arms he held a small stack of clothes upon which a roll of white bandages and gauze sat.

"I'm better now," he promised.

Sadie's throat closed up, cutting off any words she might have said. But nothing came to her in the moment anyway. Bucky took her silence for hesitance and he set down his offerings so he could crouch down in front of her.

"Sade, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Which part? You losing your temper with all of us or shooting those two men?"

The muscles in his cheeks and jaw rolled out and back in when his jaw reflexively tightened. "All of it," he murmured. "I know it's not a secret that I've killed people but I never, ever wanted you to see it."

"It's okay," she whispered and meant it. A shudder slipped down her spine as she remembered the strong hand closing on her ankle and dragging her backwards. "If you hadn't I would probably be dead."

Bucky's hands framed either side of her face and he rocked up. "I would never let that happen."

Tears stung her eyes again. "That's not a promise you can keep, buck sergeant."

"I can sure as hell try," he growled before he kissed her.

Desperation saturated his kiss, causing him to pull her face closer to his and to take as much as he could from her willing mouth. Sadie tried to keep up with his fervent pace but lost herself in the newness. Bucky kissed her hard, as though his usual gentleness and slow passion weren't enough to express the crush of emotions she knew he felt. Fear and anxiety colored his sharp movements, his tongue nearly overwhelming hers, and his tight grip on her. When at last he pulled away her lips felt bruised but she already wanted more. Sadie gripped his wrists while his hands remained on her face, easing up so he could brush his thumbs over her cheekbones.

The moment was now or wait until after they left Paris. Swallowing hard, she bowed her head and wished she possessed even a tenth of Steve's courage to confront Bucky. "What's wrong?"

"Those files that Steve and I found in Zola's apartment, they were medical files for previous patients of his." Her heart began to hammer against her breastbone. Bucky's hands left her face, coming to fall into her lap and mingle with hers.

"What about them?"

"I can't read a lot of German but I know enough about pharmaceuticals and vital statistics to know that Dr. Zola wasn't just torturing his prisoners. He was experimenting on them."

The temperature in the room plummeted. Bucky's hands slipped away from hers when he rocked back and silently rose up. A chasm opened up between them when retreated to the far side of the room. When he chose to remain silent in the face of her leading statements, Sadie decided to plow ahead.

"Bucky, I've memorized the medical charts of every member of the Howling Commandos, including yours. When you came back you told the doctor at base camp that all Dr. Zola did was give you IV fluids and sedatives. Then during your debriefing with the SSR you said you couldn't remember much of what happened when you were in solitary but that's not true, is it?"

The way Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away from her was answer enough. "Sadie, please don't go there."

"I have to," she replied doggedly, finding her courage at last, though she avidly wished she was wearing something more substantial than a slip. "As both a medical professional and someone who loves you so much it hurts, I can't let it go this time. You lied about what happened. You told the doctors that Zola tortured you physically but he also experimented on you, didn't he?"

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. With his back pressed against the wall, he could round his shoulders in mild defeat. Sadie could read his actions like an open book. But that didn't stop the earth from shaking beneath her feet when he finally answered her.

"Yeah, he did."

 **A/N: You didn't think I was gonna go easy on my lovebirds, did you? Next chapter picks up exactly where we leave off!**

 **Thoughts? Question? Comments? Predictions? I love and live for your feedback so let me know what you think! Much love - Kappa**


	25. Fights and Old Friends

**A/N: So. This chapter is a beast. There was so much I wanted to cover before we left Paris. It sounds really awful but I really enjoyed writing the first and second scenes. I hope you're not too angry with me at the end of this!**

 **Speaking of all you wonderful readers, thank you so much for all the love! Special thanks to the ever-phenomenal Stencil Your Heart, beta-extraordinaire and encourager of impulse online shopping!**

 **WARNING! This chapter is fraught with the following: language, angst, and mild gore. There is also a scene near the end involving the treatment of women that might upset readers. Please note that the scene is drawn right from the pages of history...the war was not a pleasant experience for pretty much…anyone…living in Europe at the time and I'm not going to shy away from depicting those realities.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Cap**_ **. If I did I'd be drinking champagne and laughing at the zero balance on my student loans.**

 **Chapter 25: Fights and Old Friends**

The deafening silence that followed Bucky's admission throbbed painfully in Sadie's ears. Though Bucky stood on the other side of the tiny bedroom, he might as well have been on the other side of the Grand Canyon such was the disconnect she felt. Each of Bucky's three words echoed in her head, giving rise to the thudding ache between her temples. Believing that Bucky had been tortured and used for human experimentation was one thing; having him confirm the truth was an entirely different matter. Sadie couldn't decide if she was angry or disappointed or just downright depressed. Perhaps it was a combination of all three, she thought miserably.

Blood started to trickle from the scrapes down her leg. Rising to her feet, she limped to the dresser and retrieved the bandages. Bucky pushed away from the wall to join her. He took the gauze packet before she could stop him and tore it open. Neither of them said a word while he dabbed the blood away. When he finished, Sadie opened an antiseptic gauze pad and placed it over the worst part of her wound. He reeled back and watched her go to work wrapping her leg up as best as she could. While she worked, Sadie tried to untangle the gnarled knot of emotions that coursed through her but Bucky was the first to break the still air.

"So, are you gonna say something? Or should I plan on the silent treatment all night?"

Sadie's temper flared up, so close to snapping in the face of his surly attitude. If his temper was a match then hers was the tinder, just begging to be lit up and start an uncontrollable blaze. They'd had plenty of disagreements before and even unpleasant exchanges but Sadie couldn't remember ever having a real fight with Bucky. But now she was itching for a fight and Bucky had served her the perfect opening line. Keeping her temper at bay proved to be more difficult than she anticipated.

"What do you want me to say?" She asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "Do you want me to tell you that I understand? Are you waiting for me to agree with what you did or say that it's okay? If so you'll be waiting a long, long time."

Bucky reeled back, rocking onto his heels and then upright again. Sadie tied off the bandage and inspected her handiwork. Even on herself, her lines were damn near perfectly straight and even. A folded, simple dress appeared in front of her. Sadie took the garment from Bucky and undid the buttons. She tugged the garment on over her head while he retreated to the other side of the room once more. The gap between them widened.

"How about you tell me what you're really thinking?" He asked as her head emerged from the neckline.

"I think that you're one of the smartest men I know," she replied. Her fingers fumbled over the buttons on the dress that hung off her frame. "Which is why I don't understand how you could be so unbelievably stupid."

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. "That's a matter of opinion, Sade."

"No. It's not," she snapped feeling her simmering temper start to bubble a little faster. "Bucky, you lied to the doctor in Azzano and when you had a chance to correct the record you lied to the SSR and said you didn't remember what happened! Under any normal circumstance that's idiotic but do you have any idea how lucky you are? What if you got sick and we had no idea how to treat you? God forbid, what if the doctor gave you something that reacted adversely to the drugs still in your system? You could have died, Bucky. Do you get that?"

When Bucky rolled his eyes she narrowed hers. "Oh come on, Sade. It's fine! I'm fine! Besides what was I supposed to say? 'Gee Doc, the bastard down at the old factory used me as a lab rat but I can't tell you what he pumped into me?' What good would it have done?"

"It would have kept the doctor from giving you something that could have done more damage than good!" Sadie shouted at him. "We have protocols for this kind of stuff! We would know to wait before giving you anything! The more we know about what happened the better we can treat you!"

"I couldn't even see what Zola was doing to me half the time! And I couldn't exactly stroll over to the medicine cabinet while he had me strapped down to the goddamn table!" Sadie's bitter response died in her throat. He'd caught her off guard, throwing a new piece of information in her face that she wasn't ready for. When she blinked an awful image bloomed in the back of her mind, one of Bucky in that torn uniform attached to tubes and strapped down, alone and stuck staring at the ceiling. She tried to keep her expression straight but she failed miserably and Bucky caught on immediately. "That right there," he pointed to her face. "That's why I didn't want to tell you. It's bad enough that I have to live with it but I don't want you to have to live with it too."

Sadie's hands shook. Desperate to give herself something to do other than just stare at Bucky, she reached for the ruined dress on the bed. Clutching the fabric, she stared at the blue and shook her head. "So what's your excuse for everyone else?" She asked, pulling at the expensive fabric bunched up in her fingers. "You don't think I'm strong enough to handle the truth, that's fine. You're not the first person to underestimate me and I'm sure you won't be the last but that's no excuse for the rest of the world, not for your duty to tell the truth during debriefing and not to Steve who didn't even want to believe that you would lie about this in the first place."

"This isn't about underestimating you," Bucky snapped, his voice rising in volume. "I know you can handle the truth. Hell, you're stronger than I am and we both know it."

Sadie collapsed onto the bed and Bucky went to her. The mattress creaked and shifted when he sat next to her, sending her body tipping closer to him. "Then what is it, Bucky? Because I've been going round and round this problem for months and I can't figure you out."

He blew out a hard sigh. "It's about keeping you separate from what happened. There's this wall that I've built in my head that keeps you apart from all of the bad so when I'm with you it's nothing but the good. If I drag you into this then I have to knock that wall down and things won't be the same anymore."

At last, something she understood. Reaching across the void, she touched the far side of his jaw, guiding him to look at her instead of down at his hands. "Bucky," she started to say but he cut her off.

"I know it's a stupid way to look at things and we can't go on like this forever." Sadie stilled when he cupped her face with one of his hands, dragging his thumb over her cheek. "But you weren't there," he whispered, searching her face out. "Zola pumped all these drugs into me and half the time I was on another planet."

"Hallucinogens," she filled in the gap for him. "Zola used them on previous patients."

"I couldn't tell what was real from what was fake. I hallucinated about a ton of stuff but you and Steve the most. Stuff from when I was kid to waking up in bed with you and Sadie, I swear I could feel your body against mine and you told me to hold on and I did. But then I would go back under and you don't know how many times I watched you die." Sadie reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes. "That son of a bitch made me live it over and over again."

Sadie curled her fingers behind his neck and pulled him forward, right into her. Bucky gathered her into his lap and buried his face in her shoulder. She wound her arm around him, stroking his hair while he worked to compose himself. Hot tears soaked onto her bare skin and she felt the barely exaggerated rise and fall of his broad shoulders.

"I don't know what you saw," she said after a while, still running her fingers through his hair and along his scalp comfortingly. "And I can't even imagine how it felt. I wish I could go into that head of yours and take it all away but I can't and you can't keep relying on me to be the sole source of your happiness by keeping me separate from the darker parts of you."

Taking his head in her hands, she lifted it up. Bucky's eyes swam in his tears and were the bluest she'd ever seen, ringed with red and standing out against his pale skin. Swirling in the watery depths she could see the emotions he'd hidden from her for so long. All of the insecurity, fear, anxiety and anger came to the surface where she could see it all unfold in front of her.

"I want to know all of you, including the darkest parts. Loving you means loving all of you just as you are."

"What if you don't like what you see?"

Sadie dipped her head and kissed him, letting her lips linger on his. Bucky tried to hold onto the kiss even when she pulled away and exhaled against her thumb when she dragged it across his lower lip. "I promise to love you regardless," she swore and kissed his brow. "Even when we don't like each other very much. But you have to be honest with me. It's one thing to take your time, but you can't lie anymore. Not about this or anything else. I trust you with my life but I need to know I can trust you with my heart."

"You can," he argued. "Come on, you know you can! Maybe I made a mistake but I've never lied to you."

"Not to my face but what you did could have had far reaching consequences here and now. What if you exhibited latent side-effects in the field and we didn't know? Sometimes I think you forget that outside of this," she gestured between their intertwined bodies, "you're still one of my patients."

When Bucky shifted his weight she took it as a sign and slid off his lap, ready for round two. He wiped the last of his tears away with rough hands but the words that spilled out of his lips were far rougher. "What's it gonna take to get you to let this go? I'm not sorry I did it and I can't go back and undo it so what do you want?"

It was Sadie's turn to retreat to the far side of the room. There she could see Bucky hunched over where he sat, staring at her with reproach, as though Sadie herself were putting him on trial for his sins. A significant part of her wanted to cave, to just let it go and crawl back into his arms and hide from the monsters of the world but she couldn't. She wanted a fight and now she had one.

"If you're not going to own up to your mistake then at least tell me why."

"I didn't think it was important," he muttered, echoing what he'd said before.

Sadie's temper snapped. A frustrated smile came to her and her humorless laugh filled the room. Turning away from him she rubbed her temples in an attempt to expel the anger. "That's such bullshit, Bucky. You knew exactly what you were doing!"

"I didn't want to end up in a lab, okay? Steve told me what happened after he got made into a super soldier - about how Colonel Phillips wanted to turn him into a lab rat - and I wasn't gonna let that happen to me. And I'm glad I did it, Sadie. Because now I'm doing this. I'm with Steve and I'm with you and I get the chance to find Zola and put a bullet between his eyes for what he did and for all the other guys that didn't make it."

A bitter taste welled up in Sadie's mouth. Disbelief colored her face when she turned back to look at him, to see if he really meant what he was saying, what he was insinuating. "Revenge?" She echoed, her voice painfully hollow. "That's what this is about? To find and murder Zola?"

"It's what he deserves."

"No," her voice rose up in defiance. "You're not this man, Bucky."

"Why shouldn't I be?" He snarled in return, so fierce in his beliefs that Sadie slid a step back, hitting the wall. "He's killed plenty of people already and guess what? So have I!"

"But never in cold blood." Her words echoed against the four walls and in the ensuing silence she could hear her heart absolutely hammering against her breastbone. "The man that I know?" She clutched at the chain around her neck, curling her fingers around the songbird chain. "The one I fell in love with? He would never do that."

"Yeah, well, maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

A slap to the face would have been less surprising. Sadie's head spun from the accusation that cut her deep, right into the heart of her insecurities. She wanted to flee in the face of Bucky's harshness but something in her blazed to life, spurring her forward, and she made it halfway across the room before she couldn't keep the words in. "Don't do this to me, don't shut me out! I'm right and you know it. God, Bucky, I don't get it. I don't understand why you're so focused on catching this god-awful man!"

"Because I'm scared of losing you!" Bucky shouted. The space between them disappeared, eliminated in the three strides Bucky took so he could place his hands on her face. "He threatened you, Sadie," his throat closed up and he pressed his forehead to hers. "He threatened to use you and Rebecca and my parents to get what he wanted out of me and I am terrified that if I don't do something - if I don't get rid of him - that something's going to happen to you." Sadie tasted the salt from his tears on her lips when he kissed her, his mouth hard on hers. "Sadie if you died-I don't think I'd ever get over it."

Sadie grasped his wrists, holding them gently so she could step back. "And what about me?" Her voice trembled. "This is why I swore to myself I wouldn't fall for a soldier - because you don't have to watch me march off to battle. You don't have to watch me so blindly and willingly throw my life away for this empty pursuit of revenge. You don't live with the constant fear of losing you while you're still alive."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"This need to get Zola, to get your revenge for what he did to you is eating you alive. And I'm terrified if you don't learn to let it go it's going to keep eating away at you until you're nothing but a shell. Until you've forgotten everything and everyone else you have to live for and your existence is reduced to nothing but this burning hatred." Sadie wiped the tears from her cheeks. "And as much as I love you I'm not going to live with your ghost. I want a real life with you, Bucky. I want a wedding and a marriage. I want to have your children. I want dozens of stupid fights that we'll laugh about later and anniversaries that number in the decades. And I want all of these things with you and not the shell of you. And if you think that's not something you can give me then you need to tell me."

Bucky wiped his face with a shaking hand. "Sadie, I want all of those things, you know that I do but none of this is that easy; it's not a light switch I can just turn off."

"I know it's not simple but I also know that you're so much more than the three weeks that Arnim Zola took from you."

The quiet that followed gave Sadie just long enough to feel the exhaustion that leeched into her very bones. Festering and growing in magnitude and power, Sadie could feel the weariness sucking the very life out of her. The bed, despite belonging to a stranger, looked so inviting to Sadie, begging her to sink into the covers and into oblivion. Cool fingers touched her temple before trailing a familiar path along her hairline until Bucky rest his hand on the curve of her neck. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. A private, furious war waged inside of him, the battle between what he wanted to say and what he thought she wanted to hear.

"What if it is?" He swallowed hard, barely able to force the words out. "I like to pretend that those three weeks didn't change me but they did. Sitting in a metal cage night after night listening to guys screaming in their sleep or watching the guards murder O'Connell in front of me? Or the hours strapped to a table listening to that son of a bitch threatening you and drugging me? I barely held on and the only thing keeping me going was thinking about going home to you and to Steve and to my family and if keeping you safe and alive means losing you? If that's what it takes then," he heaved a sigh, "then that's what it takes."

"I don't want to do this without you," she whispered, feeling the last of her anger wash away under a wave of sadness.

"I don't either, but you said it yourself - if I can't let this go then I lose you. That's right, isn't it?"

Sadie couldn't speak. The answer he already knew remained lodged in her throat. Cracks all along the surface of her heart grew and spread, ready to fall apart at the slightest provocation. She openly leaned into his touch and didn't fight Bucky when he guided her into his shoulder. A sob rose up and escaped her lips, muffled into his expensive shirt. Bucky folded her tightly into him. The way he held her and stroked her back contradicted his concerns and the warning in his words. Her composure shattered. There was nothing Bucky could do except hold her while she sobbed into his chest. Sadie gave into her exhaustion and her sorrow, allowing her body to become limp in Bucky's arms. He held onto her with one and used his free hand to pull back the covers on the bed before he laid her down. Bucky followed suit, pausing long enough to kick off his shoes and turn off the light.

"It's been a long night." Sadie clung to him as her tears ran out, leaving wet spots and makeup stains on his shirt. "Try and sleep."

Sadie lost the battle with her exhaustion. Sleep took her, unaware that Bucky lay awake for a long time after, stroking her hair and thinking about what he was willing to give up for the sake of the woman in his arms.

X X X

A series of vague, unsettling dreams plagued Sadie through the night. When she woke up she lay still for a long time, listening to Bucky's even breathing behind her. She wanted nothing more than to roll over and press her palm to his chest so she could try and count the beats of his heart. So many times she'd imagined sharing a bed with Bucky, of falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his comforting touch. But no matter how many permutations she came up with for this exact moment, none of them even came close to the way she felt now.

She blinked at the solid wall she faced. A nasty voice in the back of her head wondered why she hadn't started crying yet. Where was the wild and unpredictable emotion that was supposed to come with romantic upheaval? Shouldn't she be sobbing or throwing things or fainting into the nearest sofa? Wasn't that the take away from every romantic book she'd read or movie she'd seen? Sadie supposed she was supposed to feel angry and betrayed, even worried that Bucky would ultimately reject her foisting a decision on him he wasn't ready to make. If Betty or Evelyn were there Sadie expected both of them would say she should feel all of those things. But Sadie didn't.

Instead she just felt empty and numb.

Her mind drifted back to the last moments she had with Bucky before he was taken as a prisoner. Certainly the war had changed them both up to that point but back then Bucky was still shiny and new, unaffected by Zola or HYDRA and his only goal in life was to get home to the people he loved. Somewhere between losing Corporal Meyers and Bucky's ill-fated attempt at a first kiss, she'd asked how many horrors could any one person endure before breaking?

Sadie had her answer now. She felt like a child's wind-up toy, trapped in a never-ending, never-changing repetitive cycle. Soldiers lived and died. Her hands saved and failed. She gave too much of herself at the risk of losing yet another piece of her heart. Her father and Betty took parts of her she would never get back. Was Bucky destined to take even more than he already had? Would she be forced to endure the pain of knowing he chose to walk away?

Behind her the mattress shifted and she felt Bucky roll over before his arm slipped around her waist. In spite of their turmoil and the uncertainty, his warm body comforted her just a little. "I can practically hear you thinking, Sade." Bucky's lips were buried in her hair, sending his voice through the loose curls to slip into her ear. Sadie closed her eyes and settled deeper into his chest.

"I can't help it," she replied and reached for his hand draped across her middle. Lacing their fingers together, she rest their joined hands against her chest. "When I imagined waking up next to you I didn't think it would be like this."

"Me either," he admitted, pressing a tender kiss to her head. "I always figured there would be way less clothes."

Despite herself and the mood, Sadie grinned and kicked at his shin. "In your dreams, buck sergeant."

"Many times," he teased and moved back so he could coax her into rolling over. Sadie struggled with the cumbersome skirt of her dress until she was facing Bucky, drinking in his slightly sallow coloring and the redness that ringed his eyes. He held her close, both of them possessed with the knowledge that they would be parted soon with no idea how long that separation would be. The steely light in his blue eyes from the night before was gone now, replaced with concern. His voice was rough and still heavy with sleep but true when he spoke. "I love you."

"I know." Sadie framed the side of his face. "I've never doubted that for a second."

Bucky nodded and happily accepted her when she nestled deeper against him. For a while she was content to stay in that moment, before they had to face reality. "Sade? I'm sorry." Sadie lifted her head from his shoulder. "For lying to you, to everyone. I wish I thought that an apology could fix the rest of this but I guess it won't."

In a perfect world, Sadie would kiss away the pout on his lips and quell his worries with a well-timed joke. But that world was nothing more than a dream, a fairy-tale shattered in the wake of their fight. A tremor rocked her heart, sending spider cracks across the surface that threatened to spread. Sadie sniffed and buried her face in Bucky's shoulder again so he wouldn't see her eyes water. "You have no idea how much I wish it would."

He held her so tightly that she felt the bruises from her fall ache uncomfortably, but she didn't dare pull back. Sadie would have stayed there in his arms for an eternity but the moment ended with a knock to the door. The door opened just a crack, revealing Peggy. "Sadie? We just got a radio communication, the aide team is en route to collect you before getting to work."

Sadie sat up, still with Bucky's arm draped over her waist. Pushing her fingers through her unruly waves, she nodded. "They'll have my gear?"

"And a change of clothes I'm sure you're desperate for," said Peggy, eyeing Bucky when he followed Sadie's example and sat up. With a single, understanding nod, Peggy shut the door but it was too late. The spell holding things together shattered and before Bucky could stop Sadie, she got out of bed. Lurching forward, he touched her hand and she turned back. Bucky rose up to meet her when she bent over. The kiss they shared would linger for hours into days later, keeping Sadie company when she started to backslide into the darkest of her thoughts and fears.

"I love you. Come back to me when all this is over."

"I will," he promised and stole one final kiss before they were interrupted again, this time by Steve coming to get Bucky up to report for duty.

All Sadie wanted to do was lie back down in bed and cry until she ran out of tears. But the aide team's arrival prevented that - in particular Evelyn, whose joy at seeing her friend alive soon turned to horror at the sight of the bandages. Sadie didn't see Bucky except for one final glance in the back room before she followed the rest of her team to her new mission. Though the pain in her body eventually receded, the emptiness remained, her new constant companion.

X X X

The week that followed certainly wasn't the worst of Bucky's life, but it was trying in its own ways. It came as a relief when the German garrison surrendered. That evening, Bucky stood on a balcony with Steve and the other commandos watching the American 4th Infantry Division roll up the Champs Elysees, following the triumphant French troops marching in to reclaim the crowning jewel of France. Throngs of Parisians took to the streets to watch the spectacle, waving French flags. The civilians sang and danced into the night while most of the Howling Commandos went to sleep in beds for the first time in a week, earning a much-deserved full night's sleep.

Bucky couldn't sleep so easily, plagued by the noise outside of the window. As a native New Yorker, Bucky expected better of himself. Noise was a daily hazard of life in a big city. There was a time when he could sleep anywhere and through just about anything but Paris was awake and so was he.

Rationally speaking, Bucky knew he should be out cold regardless of the party raging through the city. Though he'd endured worse weeks in his life, he couldn't remember spending seven days in a row engaged in intense fighting and constantly moving. First the Commandos fought in the streets with the Resistance before clearing out to run behind enemy lines in the dead space between the city and the suburbs. Bucky lost count of the numbers of small maneuvers he'd played a role in and couldn't name the tiny suburbs to save his life. All he knew was that the battle for Paris was over, the Howling Commandos were safe and, according to Peggy's latest round of intelligence, the aide team - separated from the Commandos for the entirety of the week - were also safe though still up to their eyeballs in work.

Lying in bed alone, Bucky's heart twisted painfully. The last he'd seen of Sadie was a glimpse before she followed her team into the thick of Paris to provide desperately needed medical aid to the Resistance. Two nights after that he'd gotten word that the aide team slipped through a gap in the German line with Peggy and Howard, to provide intelligence and relief to the 4th Infantry Division. But that was five days ago and despite asking Peggy the first chance he got, Bucky never quite received a satisfactory answer as to the whereabouts of the aide team. For all knew, Sadie was bogged down in an aide station halfway across France with Evelyn and Doctor Holmes, up to her elbows in guts and gore and doing the exact same thing he'd been doing all week: throwing herself into her job to avoid thinking about the fragile state of their relationship.

For seven straight days Bucky tried not to think about Sadie. He tried not to think about their fight and he tried not to think about the horrified expression on her face when he revealed too much of himself to her. Bucky did his dead level best not to think about the decision he had to make or the way Sadie sobbed into his chest when he even so much as hinted that their love, no matter how deep, wouldn't survive. More than anything, Bucky forced himself not to think about falling asleep tangled up with her limbs and waking up to discover she was warm and soft in the mornings, the kind of woman he could wake up next to every morning. Bucky tried not to think of what could have and should have been.

Bucky tried not to think about all of these things but found himself repeatedly failing.

When Bucky wasn't contemplating the depressing possibility of losing Sadie, he caught himself dwelling on her words, on the things she discovered and the parts of him he never wanted her to see. Though his actions in the alley were necessary and he would do them again in a heartbeat, Bucky never intended for Sadie to see him kill another human being. Maybe he had been wrong to shut her out emotionally but he knew he was right about wanting her to remain innocent to that particular skill of his. In some ways, Bucky was more horrified by his actions than Sadie was. Putting his violent nature on display unsettled him in part because for the first time since joining the army, he took grim pleasure from killing someone. Watching someone attack Sadie awakened a monster in his chest, stirring it into a frenzy - Bucky's own personal Mr. Hyde. He'd been ready to rip the bastard limb from limb when he started to drag Sadie back down the street and more frightening than that, Bucky was certain he was strong enough to actually do it in that moment. Even when he came out of his rage, Bucky couldn't shake the feeling, the satisfaction he'd gotten out of putting a bullet in her assailant's brain and in knowing that was one less asshole on the planet who could hurt someone he loved.

A swell in the singing outside rang in Bucky's ears. Cursing under his breath, he ignored his protesting muscles and got out of bed, raking a hand through his hair. After he tugged on his boots he left the bedroom in a villa appropriated from the recently ousted occupiers. Wandering down the hall, he walked through a common area in the house and out onto a balcony that was already occupied.

James Falsworth leaned over the railing, cradling a lowball glass in his hands. A bottle of scotch sat on the wide brick ledge.

"They're making a hell of a racket," Bucky noted, wandering onto the balcony to join the Brit.

"Not particularly dignified, is it?" James remarked and then pointed behind Bucky back to the hallway. "There are glasses in the cabinet there."

Bucky retrieved another lowball and poured himself a healthy measure of scotch. The amber liquid burned its way down Bucky's throat, providing some measure of comfort that he hadn't expected to find in the bottle. In the streets below he watched a knot of people dancing together, whirling around each other to the tune of a song drowned out by the din of the crowds. Every so often he could pick out uniforms from various military units and he wondered how many guys in the Fourth division were having a heyday and taking advantage of the local hospitality in more ways than one.

"They've had very little to celebrate these past four years," said James after a while.

Bucky snorted in humorless laughter. "It's amazing they made it this long under Hitler's thumb."

"Many of them didn't," replied James cryptically and Bucky frowned. "Sometimes I forget how much better things are in England and America. We've taken our lumps but at least our people aren't refugees, running from one fight only to be trapped in another."

Bucky thought of the towns he'd seen, reduced to nothing but rubble. On several occasions he'd watched civilians working to clear away the debris brick-by-brick only to discover a body crushed and almost unrecognizable. The sight alone was stomach churning but watching the civilians unearth their own neighbors and family members was another misery entirely. At least at home his family was safe from certain horrors, if not the usual perils of everyday life.

"Paris is still standing though," he noted, sweeping his gaze up from the crowds to the buildings, lit up for the first time in what he suspected was ages.

"Not for lack of Hitler's trying."

"Ain't that the truth," a voice behind them startled both men. Jim Morita sauntered onto the balcony. "Can't catch a wink with all the noise. I'll have better luck sleeping on the plane back to London. I heard Agent Carter saying that the Army's gonna have to call in a bunch of engineers. Apparently Cholitz rigged all the bridges in the city to blow."

"Part of Hitler's orders for the total destruction of the city, I'm sure," remarked James dryly. "I'm just relieved that General Cholitz chose to surrender peacefully."

"Me too, otherwise we'd be here a hell of a lot longer than a week," muttered Bucky, already thinking with longing for London, a first for him.

Morita chuckled and pointed out a particularly amorous couple on the street. Bucky watched the pair engage in a passionate kiss out in the open while nursing a pang in his heart that wouldn't go away. What wouldn't he give to wake Sadie and drag her onto the balcony so they could drink in a piece of living history together? He'd trade a dozen glasses of scotch to feel her rest her head on his chest while they laughed at oddities and ridiculous happenings in the crowd. All he wanted was to hold her against him but they were still worlds apart in every respect.

On the street, the couple held hands as they ran towards a nearby alleyway, disappearing into the shadows. Morita choked on his scotch while James rolled his eyes and spoke with disapproval, "I can only imagine how many children will be born nine months from now."

Bucky didn't even want to wager a guess. He didn't want to feel the empty echo in his chest when he thought about what Sadie said to him about wanting a marriage and anniversaries. The way his heart simultaneously rose into his throat and crashed through the floor when she told him she wanted to have his children was a different monster altogether. Bucky hadn't even thought about having a family until she said something. That future, however intangible it was, seemed like nothing more than a faint hope now.

Paris wasn't even a full day removed from German occupation and already her people were looking to the future. Bucky couldn't even see five minutes into his and the promises he had made felt utterly hollow. How could he have been so foolish to promise Sadie the world when he couldn't even let her all the way in? He loved her, yes, but love wasn't enough. Loving Sadie couldn't erase the need for revenge that drove him or the fact that even after her chastising he still wanted to kill Arnim Zola where he stood. Love could do a lot, but as he started to examine the problem from all angles Bucky realized that love alone couldn't fix this. Not even his life-changing love for Sadie could dissuade him from this goal. That was his future and he was running headlong into it, no matter where or how long it took him.

The people waving flags in the streets and squares and alleys in France could all look into their future and it was full of freedom and vibrancy.

When Bucky looked forward to his all he saw was the bloody climax and no clear path after that.

X X X

The next morning, orders came down from Colonel Phillips that the Commandos would leave Paris the following day. This suited Bucky and every member of the Commandos just fine. While the rest of the group got everything ready to leave the city, Bucky and Steve accompanied Peggy and Howard to just behind the front line, to debrief and retrieve the aide team, who had been working non-stop with the first unit of the 4th infantry division that had already started to push the German line away from the city.

"We have to rendezvous with Battalion HQ when we get in," shouted Peggy over the roar of the engine as Howard drove. "Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, will you go collect Doctor Holmes and Nurses Lewis and Reid? And perhaps have someone look at your shoulder, Steve?"

Steve reached up and rubbed the top of his shoulder, not reaching the bandage that covered a deep graze on his shoulder blade, his first injury of the war. "No problem, Agent Carter."

Bucky tuned out the rest of the banal chatter and watched as the city buildings thinned out until they drove through a thin strip of country. Late summer was beginning to give way to autumn. Absently, he wondered how the weather of London had changed in his short absence. At length, the jeep rolled into the suburb and pulled to a stop outside of a mostly intact church, the enormous wooden double doors thrown open. Bucky hopped out along with Steve and halted to allow two medics carry a stretcher inside.

A cacophony of sounds rose up to the vaulted ceilings but there was so much that Bucky couldn't make much sense of it when he walked inside. Soldiers were laid in the pews and on stretchers supported by crates and anything else the staff could find. As he and Steve passed through the rows, Bucky kept his eyes peeled for any familiar faces. Several heads popped up and turned when Steve walked past, still dressed in his uniform, the shoulder partially torn open from where he'd received his wound.

Deeper and deeper they moved into the hospital, searching for the aide team or for an available nurse or doctor when they reached the back of the church. A door opened into a smaller room, used for prayer and reflection, where dozens of glass candles lined one wall though the kneelers that could be moved had been cleared to make way for a stretcher resting on sturdy crates.

Steve and Bucky stopped in the doorway.

Bucky's knees almost gave in relief. A young woman worked over the stretcher, her dark hair pulled away from her face in a no-nonsense knot and her pale face set in determination. She wore not the standard uniform of Army field nurses but a specially tailored uniform, pants made from sturdier fabric and fit to her long, narrow legs, tucked into combat boots that concealed a knife. The sleeves of her shirt were buttoned back with fabric loops and the shoulder Bucky could see bore the SSR patch, just beneath the insignia on her indicating she was a lieutenant. On her other arm she wore a white band with a red cross and Bucky knew from personal experience that she wore two chains around her neck, one of which bore a token of his affection.

Sadie was a sight for sore eyes and seeing her in perfect condition after a week allowed Bucky to release the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding.

The soldier she treated, however, was in less than perfect condition. His pant leg was torn away and his shirt pulled wide open to reveal his right side was mostly one large open wound. The torn muscles pulsed rapidly and Sadie worked to pull the shrapnel from his chest and side, her hands moving as fast as possible. Her full mouth moved just as swiftly, lips muttering to both the young tech working with her and to the patient. When she pulled the shrapnel he didn't jerk or cry out in pain and Bucky wondered how much morphine was flowing through the soldier's veins. Still, he trembled almost uncontrollably which made Sadie's job even more difficult. Blood stained her hands and the apron she wore over her uniform. She rose up to the tips of her toes when the patient coughed, spitting up blood. Shrapnel and wounds forgotten, Sadie moved up and touched the side of his face.

"You're alright, Lieutenant," she said soothingly. Bucky's stomach clenched, watching her gently stroke the undamaged side of the soldier's face. "It's all alright."

The Lieutenant reached for her with a trembling hand and she gripped his tight, still stroking his face while she stayed in his line of sight. Bucky felt as though he was intruding, walking in on an intensely personal moment that Sadie shared with her patient. She continued to talk to him, using the naturally calming effect of her slow accent, softened to a caress, as she comforted the man. She stayed in his field of vision to ensure that she was the last thing the poor man saw before he died. Sadie readjusted her fingers over his hand, tightening her hold so she could help give him some final measure of comfort while simultaneously feeling the life leave him. He fought for each breath, shaking and shivering until the very last but Sadie was an immovable presence, comforting and steady.

"I'm here," she promised him, brushing the backs of her fingers along his forehead before trailing down his cheek once more. And, as though this touch alone gave him peace, he began to still. His body gave one last shudder and then nothing more. Sadie stayed still a moment longer before she slid her previously comforting touch down to his neck, checking his pulse.

"Nurse Reid?" The technician's voice sounded so small and far away.

"He's gone," she said softly and reached up to close the man's eyes. "Have two volunteers come and move his body."

As she spoke, Sadie reached for the man's left hand, ignoring the charred skin and the stumps where three of his fingers had been. Carefully, she worked the wedding band off the dead Lieutenant's finger and undid the closure on the steel chain around his neck, sliding the wedding ring on to rest next to his dog tags. She checked his birthdate and sighed. "Nurse, is something wrong?"

"His birthday is in three days," she said and then stopped, shaking her head once. "Was."

Then, sensing the presence of others nearby, she raised her head. Sadie blinked at Bucky and Steve owlishly, as though struggling to recognize them after the past week she'd endured. The mess of her uniform was nothing compared to the ragged light in her eyes and the dark circles etched beneath them. More than ever her pale skin stood out against her dark hair and she seemed almost ghostly to Bucky, a mere specter of the woman he met over a year before.

"You're both okay," she sounded hollow, straightening up and leaving behind the body. Bucky found he couldn't look at her bloody hands while she wiped them off with one of the last clean rags in the room.

"In a manner of speaking," said Steve as he moved into the room to show off the bandage on his shoulder. "Got it a couple days ago and Morita treated it. Mind taking a look?"

Sadie pursed her lips together but then she tipped her head in an invitation to draw deeper into the room. "Come on, there's another small prayer room through this door. I doubt you want half the nurses here waltzing by to ogle at you."

Steve deflated in relief and he gladly followed Sadie. "I'm glad to see you're alright," he said conversationally as she grabbed a bunch of medical supplies and ordered her technician to fetch clean water. "How has the last week been?"

"Long," she answered and there was a numbness to her voice that Bucky wasn't prepared for. "But I'm glad you're both in one piece."

Sadie's eyes found Bucky once more and he could see within the depths that she was happy to see him. A large part of him ached to move into her and fold her against him, to let her know that everything was going to be okay even in spite of his doubts. Steve wouldn't mind; he'd probably even encourage the moment of intimacy after admitting he'd been privy to much of their fight. But Bucky found he couldn't. Seeing Sadie so numb and defeated only worsened the guilt that burned its way through his insides. He'd only seen Sadie this way once before; the morning after Betty died she'd been just as detached and demoralized. Bucky longed for her witty comebacks while she waited until Steve's back was turned so she could rise up to her toes and kiss him. Where was the spitfire smile and the jokes she made to alleviate the worst of the tension? Where had his Sadie gone?

"What happened?" She asked as she helped Steve out of his leather shield holster and then began to strip off the top of his uniform so she could assess the deep graze in his shoulder.

"Well, I was bound to get hit sometime," said Steve as though being shot was just another day at the office. "I'm just glad it wasn't worse."

The ghost of a smile touched Sadie's lips. "Captain Rogers, I think you're the first man I've met who actually doesn't seem to mind being shot."

"Better me than some other guy."

The technician returned with water and Sadie washed her hands before starting on addressing the graze. "It's too shallow for stitches," she said as she examined the already-healing wound. "Morita did an excellent job. And since you tend to heal faster than normal I'm not too worried. For now I'll clean it out again and bandage you up and check up on you for the next few days to make sure you don't get an infection."

"Good, I'm not a big fan of needles," Steve admitted and a real smile came to Sadie now.

"That makes two of us." She set to work preparing her materials, acting as though she hadn't just come from comforting a man through his dying breaths. Sadie's ability to phase between patients blew Bucky's mind. If he'd had to talk a total stranger through his death Bucky was certain he wouldn't be standing. But there she was, upright and stronger than Bucky could ever hope to be.

She worked quickly and efficiently and within minutes Steve was ready to go. Carefully she helped him back into his shirt, holding the bandage in place. "Come on, I'll walk you out," she said after she cleaned up her supplies.

"We're actually here to get you and the others," said Bucky, finally finding his voice. "We're going back to Paris for the night before catching a plane back to London."

"When we do we head out?"

"Couple of hours, probably," said Steve. "Peggy has to debrief at Battalion HQ and who knows how long that's going to take."

"I'll stay until we're ready to leave and a replacement comes for me," she started to argue but Bucky shook his head.

"Orders are orders, Sade. When was the last time you ate or slept?" Sadie's refusal to answer was answer enough. While Steve fussed with his shield holster, Bucky drew closer to her, placing both of his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs reassuringly over her shirt. "You're dead on your feet and I will carry you out of here if I have to."

The prospect of total humiliation was enough and she nodded. "Okay, buck sergeant. You win."

Bucky leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead; he was relieved to hear his nickname. It was a sign, no matter how small, that things weren't completely ruined between them. "Good deal, let's go and get your gear. Where are Doc Holmes and Evelyn?"

"Off shift. They were both in surgery all night. My gear is with them." She removed her apron and folded it up. "Let me check in with the head nurse on duty so she knows I've got new orders."

Ten minutes later, Bucky walked into the morning sunshine with Steve, Sadie walking between them. Every step she took seemed to weigh her small body down but when Steve was so bold as to ask how many days in a row she'd worked, she shut him down.

Bucky was on the verge of sliding his arm around her when a loud commotion stopped him. A young woman screamed hysterically as she thrashed against the iron grips of two men who dragged her out of a building across the street. Behind them a quartet followed, including two middle aged women, their faces all twisted in the same expression of disgust. The woman writhed against her captors, rolling over to try and break free. Locks of thick hair, the exact same shade as Sadie's, spilled down her shoulders in shining curls that she tried to clutch to hide away from her assailants. The two men forced her to her knees and the group surrounded her, brandishing scissors and razors. A chant rose up from the group, a hash word that turned Sadie's stomach.

" _Putain_ ," they shouted and Sadie stopped to watch in disgust when one of the men grabbed a fistful of the girl's hair and cut it off, brandishing the locks above his head as a symbol of triumph.

"What are they saying?" Steve asked.

"They're calling her a whore," she replied, her voice tight with anger.

The young woman's wails drowned out as the miniature mob descended on her. Bucky's hackles rose and he didn't need to look at Steve to know he responded the same way. Unsticking his throat, Bucky asked the same question as Steve at the same time. "Why?"

"According to them, she must have slept with at least one Nazi," murmured Sadie, sounding profoundly grim and bitter. "Whether they have actual proof of that is another matter entirely."

Through a gap in the crowd Bucky watched the tears rolling down the girl's face. Spots of blood dotted the bare portions of her scalp where a man was taking a razor blade to it. His stomach and intestines clenched in disgust and anger on this poor woman's behalf. Another chunk of her hair fell to the street. At once he started to go forward and put an end to this and he wasn't alone. Steve's face twisted with anger and he went to follow but an iron-like grip came down on his wrist and Steve's. To Bucky's incredulities, he looked down to see Sadie holding them both back.

"Don't." Her single command more than her physical restraint stunned both men into stillness.

"But they're— _Sadie_ ," Steve admonished her in a way that Bucky would never dare. "Whatever she's done that girl doesn't deserve this!"

Sadie's grey eyes hardened into steel so sharp Bucky couldn't even make eye contact with her. Her jaw clenched and her lips drew into a straight, disapproving line. The glare she gave Steve could have killed a lesser man, Bucky was convinced. In a harsh motion she released Steve's wrist and Bucky's, almost throwing them both away. "Do you honestly think that I don't know that? You have no idea how much I want to stop this but if you intervene now those people are liable to take a shot or two at you."

"I'm not afraid of them, Bucky and I could take them all without breaking a sweat!"

"And what about the girl?" She hissed, moving to put herself between Steve and the mob. "You step in now and not only are they going to think you're a Nazi sympathizer and attack you they'll most definitely beat her as punishment and chances are they'll come after me just for being associated with the two of you!"

Bucky stood down at once but Steve wasn't ready to go down without a fight. "Sadie I can't let this go on," he started to argue and she held up a hand to cut him off.

"You haven't been around for the aftermath in these small towns, Steve. I've seen what they do to the people who try to stop them and to the women they're trying to protect." Sadie's voice shook along with the rest of her. "They'll beat her and leave her in the street. I know you have good intentions, believe me I hate this more than you do but if you step in now you're going to make things worse for all of us."

Something akin to shame burned through Sadie and right into Bucky. The light he was accustomed to seeing burn bright in her was nothing more than a bare flicker, dying out beneath the evening sunset. Behind her the carnage continued and she shut her eyes, flinching when a particularly sharp cry pierced the air. In that moment she broke and fresh tears welled up in the corners of her eyes but she blinked them away and Bucky wished she wouldn't. He wanted the fire and fervor of her personality, of Sadie's relentless pursuit to help save anyone she could whether it be her closest friends or a strange woman accused of sleeping with the enemy. Seeing her succumb to defeat threatened to break him too. From day one Sadie had always been the strong one in their relationship, always the unshakeable force that could weather any storm. Silently, he reached down and filled one of her hands with his and she squeezed it so hard he felt the bone and tendons rub together painfully.

"I'm sorry, Sade. I had no idea."

Sadie opened her eyes at Steve's apology. An emptiness shone in the stormy depths, unsettling Bucky. The woman's cries stopped and Sadie turned in time to see the leader of the mob ruthlessly push her to the ground, spitting on her before he called the rest off, leaving her in a crumpled heap on the street. She clutched at her hair and sobbed into the once beautiful locks.

"Is this what victory looks like?" Sadie asked, expecting no answer in particular. The young woman's gaze found the three of them and the world stilled for a moment. Bucky couldn't fathom this reality, one where the people he'd fought for days to liberate would stoop to the same lows as their occupiers. "If it is, then I honestly have no clue what the hell we're fighting for."

She set her bags on the ground and began digging through them, pulling out several K-rations, a medical kit, and her raincoat. Raising her gaze she gestured for the woman to come to her. Slowly the girl stood, her legs trembling. The shoulder of her dress was torn open, reminding Bucky of Sadie's torn dress the night he'd saved her in the alley. Her steps were tentative until Sadie called out to her in French, words Bucky didn't understand but they must have worked because the girl crossed the street and collapsed into Sadie's waiting arms. Both women sank to the ground and Sadie cradled the girl's head into the crook of her neck and rocked her gently as she dissolved into hysterics.

Bucky crouched down next to them and hesitantly reached out, touching the girl's shoulder. She flinched but then reached up to clutch his hand. Sadie folded the young woman into her protective embrace and when Bucky looked at her face he could see her staring blankly ahead, tears rolling down her cheeks.

He thought about what she said. If this was the product of victory, Bucky wasn't so sure he wanted to be fighting for it either.

X X X

The morning that the SSR planned to move out of Paris, Bucky woke with a splitting headache. Cold breakfast and terrible coffee did nothing to improve his mood as he got his things together with Steve grumbling under his breath while he brushed his teeth. On a normal day, Bucky could be ready to go in no time flat and that time was reduced to almost nothing in the field. Like most military personnel, Bucky slept in his uniform even in safe zones like Paris. He knew from painful past experience that anything could happen in the blink of an eye.

Steve returned from the small bathroom down the hall, wiping his mouth off and scowling at the bright sun that spilled through the open windows. The house the SSR temporarily claimed formerly belonged under Nazi control. The members of the Commandos took delight in tearing down the Nazi flags and throwing them out to the crowds who added them to piles being burned in the streets. Some of the guys kept small souvenirs - expensive trinkets left behind by the Germans - but Bucky didn't. There was nothing from his experience in Paris he wanted to remember.

"How the hell are we gonna get out of all of this?" Steve wondered, peering down below.

Through the day and into the night the crowds dispersed to make way for the 4th Infantry Division to roll through, ready to move out of the city and begin pushing the German line further back. Instead of singing and chants about the newly liberated city, Bucky heard the rumble of engines and the thunderous din of the crowds of GIs that lined the streets, desperate for places to sleep and better food to eat. The streets were clogged in every direction Bucky looked. He didn't relish the prospect of wading through the crowds.

Bucky didn't answer Steve but that didn't seem to bother him much. Instead he shoved the map and compass he'd been pouring over the night before back into his pack. While Bucky laced up his combat boots, Steve cracked open a K-ration and fiddled with the tiny can opener. "You know what I miss?"

"Your own bed? Real food? Coffee that doesn't taste like pisswater?" Bucky mused, not paying much attention to Steve.

"I was gonna say going down to the corner deli on Saturday mornings but yeah, all that too." Bucky's stomach growled at the thought of the corner deli that stood a block away from Steve's old place in Brooklyn. The pang in his stomach, however, had nothing to do with the deli and everything to do with home. Steve didn't have a problem talking about New York the same way that Bucky did. His stony silence continued to permeate the room while he tried to banish thoughts of home from his mind. "Hey, are you okay?"

Bucky snorted in humorless laughter. If 'fine' were the sun then he was certainly Pluto, as far away as possible and just as cold. "I'm peachy," he responded, cluing Steve in on the depths of just how not fine he was.

A knock on the open door caught their attention. Sadie stood there with Evelyn at her side, both women dressed and ready to go. "We're moving out," said Sadie, eyeing the clutter in Steve's open pack. "The troop trucks are waiting for us in the square about five blocks away."

"We'll be right there," promised Steve.

Sadie nodded once. Her steely eyes slid over to him and she gave him the ghost of a smile before she left with Evelyn in tow. Bucky's insides squirmed uncomfortably. For one glorious minute, Bucky thought Steve was going to let it go. But then he heard a low whistle pierce the air behind him and he knew that was a foolish pipe dream. "That must have been some fight you had with Sadie."

Bucky's hackles rose. "Who said anything about a fight?"

"You're kidding, right?" Steve asked as they left the room. "You've been in a bad mood since that night Sadie and I tossed Zola's place." Bucky's eyes narrowed suspiciously but he chose not to prod Steve too hard as they reached the staircase. "Plus, I'm pretty sure half the city could hear you two going at it at certain points."

Bucky grimaced at Steve's extraordinary poor choice or words. "Find a better way to phrase it next time, will you? Or, even better, how about we drop the subject altogether?"

To Steve's credit, he kept a remarkably straight face and held it when they joined the rest of the Commandos in the lobby of the building. Sadie and Evelyn stood deep in conversation before leading the way out of the building. They walked a little ways apart from the group, weaving expertly through the tanks, jeeps, motorcycles, and troop carriers that lined the roads and congested traffic trying to push through the crowded city center. Everywhere Bucky turned he saw nothing but a moving, writhing tangle of olive drab uniforms. Each uniform belonged to a GI and Bucky watched more than one head snap in their direction.

Without helmets and dressed in SSR uniforms, there was no mistaking Evelyn and Sadie for women and just about every soldier noticed. The clatter and din of the crowd intensified Bucky's headache, periodically pierced by a sharp wolf-whistle or a come-on that turned his stomach. Bucky noticed that Evelyn and Sadie were much better at shaking off the crude behavior of the GIs that permeated Europe wherever they went. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Steve's frown deepen while Dum Dum and Gabe moved to walk closer to the two women.

The men of the Howling Commandos walked a fine line with the women they served with. The high wire act involved balancing two interests: protecting Sadie and Evelyn but also respecting that they often didn't need protection. Sadie in particular hated being handled and she had a death stare to back up her temper. Most of the time the mere presence of Captain America and his troops was enough to deter even the worst soldier. This time, however, there were simply too many people in the crowd and not enough space to move. Both Sadie and Evelyn pushed on, keeping their gazes firmly ahead though they were extremely exposed. The medical bands on their arms only made things worse, and one soldier yelled _"I'll play doctor for you, sweetheart!"_ while another shouted " _What's a guy gotta do to get a little mouth-to-mouth?"_ With her bright red hair, Evelyn was a natural target for a bevy of truly lewd and unimaginative lines. Bucky's anger burned white hot when another soldier hollered from atop a tank _"Hey red! Does the carpet match the drapes?"_

"Someone ought to write their wives and girlfriends," growled Steve, picking up his speed to match Bucky's, determined to catch up to the women.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, that'll show 'em. Why don't you drag a couple into a back alley for a quick beat down? You'll actually win this time."

Steve glared at Bucky. "You know any time you wanna take your head out of your ass that'd be great."

A choice comeback sprang to Bucky's lips but he forced it down. Instead he hitched his rifle further behind his back and trudged on, keeping an eagle eye on Sadie. She might not like it but he'd be the first in line to deck any guy who came too close to her. He didn't care if they were on the rocks or not.

The crowds started to thin as they neared the small square where their transport waited for them. He and Steve continued to press on when a young private broke away from his group of three friends, calling out. "Excuse me!" He jogged over to Evelyn and Sadie. "I'm sorry, excuse me!"

With no choice but to stop when the private careened to a halt in front of them, Sadie crossed her arms over her chest. Evelyn tipped her chin up to look at the taller man. "How can we help you, private?"

The private's eyes flickered to each woman's face, sliding right over their identifying rank before settling on shorter, less-intimidating Evelyn. "I just wanted to ask you a quick question, doll," he said and stepped in closer to Evelyn who couldn't shift back fast enough. "Did you grow up on a farm? Because you sure know how to raise a good cock."

Evelyn shouted when the private gabbed a handful of her backside. An uproar swelled up from the Commandos but before Steve and Bucky could get there, Sadie's hand shot out like a bullet. The private yelled in surprised when she closed her hand over his wrist and wrenched it back. As one Dum Dum and Gabe backed up, knowing better than to get in Sadie's way.

"Hey lady, let go of me!" He cried out and she clamped down tighter. "It was just a joke!"

"That's First Lieutenant to you, Private," she hissed. "And you owe Second Lieutenant Lewis an apology for acting like a goddamn heathen."

Someone could have knocked Bucky over with a feather. He'd never heard her curse that way before and clearly the young kid hadn't been expecting it either. When he tried to twist his arm free she tightened her vice grip further and Bucky winced on his behalf. Steve interjected before things got out of hand.

"First Lieutenant Reid," he said in a low voice. Sadie wasn't looking at him, the full force and fury of her gaze resting on the private who, in everyone else's estimation, was getting exactly what he deserved. Dum Dum and Gabe both laughed at his misfortune while Falsworth, Dernier, and Morita couldn't contain their approving grins. Evelyn herself stood next to Doctor Holmes, looking mortified but vindicated. "Maybe you should ease off."

"Why? So he can skate off without consequences?" She growled. "So he never learns his lesson? That woman you just manhandled is the same woman who'll be pulling shrapnel out of your sorry ass after you get into your first real firefight. She's the same woman who runs into the bombs to save your life. She's a human being deserving of your respect and courtesy."

"I get it! I get it!"

"I really think you don't," she snapped, but relinquished his wrist with a disgusted look. He started to scuttle off when a booming voice interrupted the fray.

"Private Daniels! What in the hell are you doing?"

Bucky started when Sadie's head snapped up in recognition. Her lips parted in surprise when her eyes fell on a man marching up to their group. In an instant her lips pulled into the first genuine smile he'd seen from her in weeks at the sight of an exceedingly handsome man coming to block Private Daniels from escaping. His brown eyes fell on Sadie and he recognized her immediately too. Just like Sadie his face broke into a broad grin and then he started to laugh, chuffing Daniels on the back.

"Good lord, Daniels, you ought to thank your lucky stars someone's here to save you." The private gaped at the man who never took his eyes off Sadie. She crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Davis Ingram," she drawled, her southern lilt thicker than Bucky had ever heard. "Well I'll be damned."

Davis Ingram smacked Private Daniels upside the head. "Daniels, the next time you decide to act like a dumbass make sure you don't do it in front of First Lieutenant Reid. She's liable to take your legs off and send you crying to your mama without breaking a sweat." Private Daniels turned a furious shade of fuchsia. "Now then, I believe you owe this woman an apology for behaving like a goddamned disgrace."

Private Daniels managed to squeak out an apology before he scurried away to his howling friends. Davis shook his head in disappointment. "I ought to apologize," he said directly to Evelyn whose eyes darted rapidly between Sadie and the newcomer. "You can drill orders into those boys but manners are a different story. I should have led Sadie finish the job."

"It's—okay?" Evelyn said but she was promptly forgotten when Davis rounded back to Sadie.

"I should have known I'd run into you here of all places!" Without any pretense or warning he swept Sadie into a bear hug, which she happily returned. The bottom of Bucky's stomach dropped out.

"I know! I can't believe it!" She cried out, practically beaming when he let go of her. She slapped a hand over her forehead still in a state of surprise. "I—where are my manners!" She checked the gold bars on his uniform. "Everyone this is Second Lieutenant Davis Ingram. Davis and I grew up in Little Rock together. His wife, Vera-Lynn, was one of my closest friends growing up."

Evelyn visibly slackened in relief and so did Bucky upon hearing the word 'wife.' Davis was a bear of a human being, built out of old southern stock if his thick accent was anything to judge. He looked exactly like an all-American quarterback and Bucky wasn't surprised when he shook hands with the man to find a firm, self-confident grip. Davis was Bucky's worse nightmare in the flesh, the kind of man that Sadie should have ended up with, staring him right in the face. Seeing her elated reaction to running into an old friend only made his jealousy, however unfounded, that much worse.

Davis was appropriately awed at Sadie's new company though he seemed far more interested in catching up with his old friend than fawning over Captain America. Sadie smiled at Bucky as if to tell him not to worry before she gamely let Davis walk with her to the troop trucks, deep in conversation the entire time. As they left he could hear her ask about his wife and how his mother and mother-in-law were doing.

"You shouldn't worry," said Evelyn at his elbow. She stuck close to his side and Bucky suspected that had a lot to do with her recent trauma. Up close he could see she was still pale and shaking. "Sadie was a bridesmaid in their wedding."

"I'm not worried," he replied. That was true; he wasn't worried about Davis Ingram in the slightest. What worried him wasn't the man, but the idea the man represented. Bucky took note of Davis' ramrod straight posture, the way he walked and how Sadie unconsciously mirrored his actions and walked on his arm as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Was that where Sadie truly belonged, despite her protests to the contrary? Bucky shuddered at the thought.

"Whatever's going on between the two of you will blow over," said Evelyn as though she could see into the future.

"Yeah, I hope you're right," he muttered.

Bucky, Evelyn, and Steve came upon Sadie mid-laughter while Davis shook his head, still grinning. "You try telling Vera-Lynn we don't need to change the wallpaper in the dining room for the third time in a year and see if she doesn't give you the lecture of a lifetime! I swear I thought she was going to set my hair on fire she was so mad."

Sadie wiped the tears of mirth from beneath her eyes. "Oh, I miss her," she lamented.

Davis squeezed her upper arm. "When we get back we'll all sit down to a real dinner and catch up on all that lost time. She misses you too, I know. She'll be over the moon to hear I saw you safe and sound."

"Give her my best," she made Davis promise.

"I will and I should probably get back to my guys. Leave 'em alone too long and they tend to get stupid." Sadie smiled and rose up, kissing his cheek.

Davis bade them all farewell, shaking Bucky's hand firmly. "I know she doesn't need it, but y'all take care of her, will you? She means an awful lot to a lot of people back home."

Bucky felt, if possible, even worse.

Steve helped Evelyn up into the troop truck when a gentle hand touched Bucky's arm. "You alright?"

Bucky caught Sadie's worried gaze. "I'm fine."

She didn't believe him any more than he believed himself, but if she wanted to respond she couldn't; Peggy joined them. "I just wanted the three of you to know that we finished translating the medical files that Steve and Peggy found." She spoke as if she were merely talking about the weather. "I thought you should know that listed in the charts was the information about where he was conducting tests, including two bases in Belgium we didn't already know about."

"Good," said Steve and Sadie nodded in agreement. Her eyes caught Bucky's and she was still looking at him when she spoke.

"At least it wasn't all for nothing."

Bucky felt the sharpness of her words that nobody else could see and they stabbed right into the heart of him. She pulled herself into the troop truck and he followed. He was relieved when the trucks rumbled to life.

Bucky had had his fill of the City of Lights and he hoped to never come back.

 **A/N: I feel like maybe I should hide. In all fairness, I never promised an easy road for our lovebirds.**

 **Next chapter picks up a little bit after the departure from Paris and I'm planning something and I'm quite excited for it. In fact, I'm pretty excited for the next three chapters and you should be too!**

 **I will say these last few chapters have been rough on me and I would love to read/hear your thoughts! Questions, comments, things you'd like to throw at me for being evil, grievances, and love…leave any and all of it! Much love – Kappa.**


	26. Apologies and Surprise Attacks

**A/N: So, parts of this chapter have been in the works for a while. I'm not totally happy with how some of the action came out but if I sat on this chapter any longer I was going to go crazy. Forgive the rough patches – the next two chapters will more than make up for it, I promise.**

 **Thank you so much for all the love, I can't believe this little story is pushing 350 reviews and has over 500 follows! I love writing it and can't wait to share the rest of my devious plans with you as the story unfolds. Extra love to Stencil Your Heart, who beta'd the first half of this chapter but not the last, so any errors you see there are 100% my fault!**

 **The usual language and violence warnings apply!**

 **Disclaimer – Gosh, wouldn't it be nice if I owned** _ **Cap**_ **?**

 **Chapter 26 – Apologies and Surprise Attacks**

Bucky never expected to be the type of man who stared into the bottom of his lowball glass. Growing up in Brooklyn he'd seen his fair share of drunks, men slumped over bar tops and sprawled out in alleyways the following morning. He'd witnessed enough bar brawls and broken families to ward him away from finding too much comfort in the bottle. The fear of ending up with even less than he already had kept him from drinking to excess. But lately those concerns hadn't stopped him from wandering down to the nearest pub to relieve the bartender of a glass or two. In the two weeks after returning to London from Paris, Bucky found himself desperate for anything that could take even a little bit of the edge off.

Lately Bucky felt as though he were made of nothing but edges. Even the smallest inconveniences piqued his irritation. His usual outlets for his foul moods only led to more trouble. If he tried to take his mood out on a punching bag he ended up hitting too hard. There was only so much target practice he could do; not even the SSR possessed an endless supply of ammunition. Trying to find diversion with the rest of the Commandos usually led to dance halls where he glumly stared at the happy couples, but spending all of his time with Steve led to questions he didn't want to answer and lectures he wasn't ready to hear. Bucky's only other outlet happened to be the source of his ennui. He couldn't very well back Sadie into a corner and kiss her breathless, especially when they'd barely spoken in two weeks.

So it was scotch for Bucky. He liked to drink at a small pub a few blocks further from the SSR headquarters where he could sit in peace and not worry about anyone disturbing him.

"Another?"

Bucky glanced at the bartender, a middle-aged man with a bottlebrush mustache and a potbelly. In the milliseconds that passed, Bucky considered whether he should have a third or if he'd rather cut his losses and slink back to the bunker. On the one hand he could get a full night's sleep before the Commandos moved out to Belgium in the morning. On the other he would have that much more time in his room alone with his thoughts. He started to nod when a voice disrupted him.

"Make it two, his drink's on me."

Evelyn Lewis flashed Bucky a cheeky smile. Her flaming red hair stood out in the mostly drab bar, resting just atop her shoulders in thick curls that, when they caught the light just right, actually reminded Bucky of flames. She perched herself on the barstool next to his and rested her chin in her hand, clearly trying not to give in to her smug satisfaction.

"Congratulations," he muttered glumly. "You found me."

"Like it was hard." Evelyn's sarcasm had a mild acidic bite, just tame enough to be humorous but Bucky suspected she could be quite cutting when she wanted to be. "You know, for a world class soldier and sharpshooter you're not very good at hiding."

Bucky snorted in humorless laughter. "Are you here to insult me? Or are you here to try and talk some sense into me?"

"Neither," she replied with firm frankness.

The bartender slid two lowballs of scotch to them. Bucky curled a hand around the glass. Just before he drank he couldn't quite stop the vitriol from spilling over. "I thought you broads were supposed to hate the men in your friends' lives who do them wrong or whatever."

Where Sadie would immediately fire off a witty reply, Evelyn was more contemplative and took his foul mood with good humor. "Well I guess that depends, have you wronged her lately?"

"Haven't I?"

"Not according to Sadie," replied Evelyn after first sip. Bucky actually lifted his head to stare at her in astonishment. "But if that's not the case then tell me now while I've still got enough drink to throw in your face before I storm out in dramatic fashion."

Bucky couldn't help it. He laughed for the first time in days. "Unless you count barely talking to each other as wrongdoing then you can keep your drink, Red. I'm not out there looking for her replacement if that's what you're implying."

"You couldn't find one even if you tried," snapped Evelyn, a sentiment that Bucky wholeheartedly agreed with. "In all seriousness, I came to see how you're doing." She faltered, exposing her nerves and the gamble she thought she was taking. "It's just-I know that it's been a rough couple of weeks for both of you."

More than he hated actually feeling emotionally raw, Bucky hated that the rest of the world knew it too. Perhaps in a larger infantry unit where he hardly saw Sadie he could properly hide the tension but not with a unit this small and close. Everyone knew they were skidding off course and everyone had a private opinion even if they lacked all the facts. A nasty part of him ached to return to a time in his life when he bounced from one girl to the next not caring much for how she fared in the wake of the split. But whenever Bucky thought back to those days he felt as though he was peering in on someone else's life.

He blew out a hard sigh before he downed a quarter of his drink. Yes, the days of cutting and running were long gone. Still, Sadie differed from his past relationships in nearly every single respect except for one. "I'd be a hell of a lot better if I knew why women are so complicated."

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "I swear, for someone so smart you're such a dummy! Sadie's about as far from complicated as it gets." Bucky made a grunt of disbelief. "She's really not once you realize one very important truth about her."

"Which is?"

"She's an all or nothing kind of girl," said Evelyn simply. She sipped her scotch while she waited for Bucky to process this piece of information. What she said made sense on a fundamental level. Their relationship hadn't progressed in miniscule increments and drawn out flirtation so much as in leaps and bounds, but when she kissed him their entire relationship changed on a dime and neither of them had really looked back since. The same was true about her general approach to her job. When Sadie was on duty she threw her whole self into the job. "And on top of that she's smart and guarded. So when she chooses to give part of herself to someone it's not a small thing. And her giving her heart to you? Letting you in the way she has?" Evelyn let out a low whistle. "It's a huge deal."

"I do know that."

"But you don't appreciate it," she countered. Bucky actually set down his glass and opened his mouth to argue. Evelyn held up a sharp hand to cut him off. "I'm not saying you don't appreciate her or love her. I'm saying that you don't appreciate what it means for a woman like Sadie to give you her love. In all honesty, Sadie doesn't really get it either. I don't think she's prepared at all for what's going to happen if you two split."

Wiping his face with his hands, Bucky was starting to bitterly regret opening himself up to conversation with Evelyn. He wished he'd shut her down and sent her on her way with her disappointment. But he was too deep in it now and something Evelyn said struck too deep of a chord with him. "I don't want to split up. Maybe you don't believe me but I don't want to lose her."

"Oh, I believe you. Otherwise you'd have already done it and Sadie knows that too."

Bucky thought about the two weeks they'd gone and the sparse conversations they'd had, peppered with sparks of a fight and even a few choice barbs. He couldn't remember the last time they'd shared a joke or even kissed where it didn't feel tense. "She's got a funny way of showing it."

"She's hurting and is totally clueless as to how to handle it! When Sadie loves someone she does it with her whole heart and right now you're both threatening to break each other's and someone's got to end this stalemate!"

"That's what you think this is? A stalemate?" Bucky frowned. "What did she tell you?"

Evelyn flushed pink. Hastily she took a drink to buy herself some extra seconds to formulate a response. But in the end she had to admit what she clearly didn't want to. "Not much of anything. That woman is a vault and Lord help me but this time I don't know the combination. It just seems like you two are staring each other down and nobody really knows why."

A significant part of Bucky appreciated Sadie's discretion. Knowing that she didn't want to air her dirty laundry out to the world somehow made this whole situation just a tiny bit better. Yet, Bucky knew they couldn't keep it all one giant secret forever. The way Steve and Peggy looked at him, he suspected they were trying to put the pieces together behind closed doors and it was only a matter of time before they figured it out. Bucky drained his glass and decided to blame his response on the scotch.

"We fought because I didn't tell the doctors in Azzano that Zola experimented on me. I dunno, we said a bunch of stuff but basically I want to kill the bastard and she doesn't want me to." Bucky glared at his empty glass, half-willing it to refill itself in order to make this painful conversation more bearable. "She's worried that all I think about is revenge and that it's going to take over my life."

"Is she right?"

Evelyn reached the heart of the problem quickly, asking the very same question Bucky had been asking himself for two weeks. In the first week after Paris, Bucky had done a spectacular job of convincing himself that she'd blown things out of proportion. She'd been upset about the medicine and the experimentation and Bucky expected her to come down from her ledge. But when she didn't, when she remained distant and depressed, Bucky knew she'd been dead serious. Bucky didn't enjoy staring down the reasoning of his decisions but he'd done more soul searching in the past seven days than he had perhaps his entire life.

"I don't know," he admitted, shame burning in his voice. Bucky thought he would know more by now and that he would have the magical answer. "Maybe."

"Can I ask you what might be a stupid question?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow, too tempted by the prospect to say no. "Of course."

"If keeping Sadie isn't worth giving up your quest for Zola then what is?"

"I never said that she wasn't."

"Are you sure? Because where I'm sitting the math is pretty simple. You love Sadie and you say you want to marry her but instead of spending our last few free hours before we ship out to Belgium with her, you're getting drunk in a pub with me. It seems like either you already know the answer and you aren't willing to admit it or you're refusing to let it go."

Leaning back in his seat, Bucky struggled to maintain control over his rapidly thinning patience. "I thought you were coming to check up on me and not do this?"

Evelyn bit her lip to hide the worst of her sheepish smile. "It's a bit of both. Sadie is my best friend, can you blame me for wanting to get to the bottom of this mess?"

Bucky supposed that Evelyn was no worse than Steve, constantly trying to cajole Bucky into talking or doing his best to orchestrate situations that would facilitate reconciliation. "Why, though? I mean why worry about me at all?"

"Because you're my friend too," she said as though he were an idiot. "And because you make Sadie happy and after everything the war's taken away from her I think she deserves to be happy."

Evelyn drained her glass and slid it across the bar. Over her protests, Bucky paid the tab and offered his arm to her. Together they abandoned the warm, cozy pub for the chilly, drizzly London night. In the morning the two of them would join the rest of their unit, bound for Antwerp and then on to destroy another HYDRA base. The base was one of the two identified in Zola's patient files and the recent Allied progress through Belgium opened up a window of opportunity for the Commandos to strike the base with a large military base close enough to provide support if needed.

But that was tomorrow. Tonight, Bucky walked Evelyn back to the SSR quarters in comfortable silence. It wasn't until they reached the building that Evelyn spoke again. "Do you think you can not tell Sadie I went to talk to you? She'd murder me if she found out I was meddling."

But would rather face a fire-breathing dragon than betray both women. "Your secret's safe with me."

Evelyn smiled up at him and let go of his arm, preparing to part ways to her room. She stood a few steps above him on the main staircase. A wistful smile touched her lips. "For what it's worth, I've been rooting for you the whole time."

The encouragement embedded in Evelyn's words and the warmth in her voice bolstered Bucky, even if for a little while. After Evelyn went up to her room he trudged up the stairs to his own. Already his gear was packed and ready to go for the early five a.m. departure. For a while he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling before he resigned himself to getting little sleep. He retreated to the small desk by the window and started a letter to Rebecca, writing until eventually he slumped over the desk and stayed there until he woke up to Steve rapping on his door just after four-thirty.

X X X

Bucky kept his promise to Evelyn and said nothing to Sadie about their conversation. This proved to be an easy promise to keep because from the moment he arrived at the airfield in Ipswich everyone was so busy with preparations for the coming mission that Bucky didn't have five minutes to think, let alone talk to Sadie. The aide team oversaw all of the supplies that the SSR was sending to Antwerp, including desperately needed medical supplies and food. The second Steve got his hooks into Bucky he didn't let go, dragging him into strategy sessions that found Bucky studying maps as best as he could on the turbulent plane ride and reading troop movement reports as soon as he got on the ground in Antwerp.

The plan was to head west towards Herentals and turn north short of the city towards the forest that scattered across the countryside. Reconnaissance photos revealed some abandoned farm buildings where the unit could establish a base of operations. From there it was a simple matter of scouting out the factory, laying low, and striking at the right time. Two crates of Stark-designed explosives were tasked with doing the job of leveling the small factory and wiping one more HYDRA stronghold off the map and advancing the SSR one step further in the war against Schmidt.

Bucky and Gabe stood beneath an overhang on the front steps of the abandoned mansion that the SSSR was temporarily appropriating. They watched as SSR staff members stationed in Antwerp loaded the crates into the back of a covered troop truck. Gabe stifled a yawn while he fished a pack of cigarettes out of his breast pocket.

"You want one?" He offered the pack to Bucky and he shook his head. Gabe bobbed his head to a song that Bucky couldn't hear, as cheerful as ever. "Man, I keep thinking about this all-night club around the corner from my place back home. When we get home I'm gonna take you there."

Bucky squinted into the pouring rain. "Sounds like a plan," he said, his voice as distant as his mind.

Gabe blew out a cloud of smoke downwind. "Music's a good way to get your mind off things."

Steve rescued Bucky from having to respond when he appeared in the doorway, pocketing his compass. "I just got word, the U.S. First secured the south end of Brussels."

The grim note in Steve's tone piqued Bucky's curiosity. "That's good news, right?"

Steve adjusted the straps of his shield holster. He didn't quite meet Bucky's eyes. "The Germans are retaliating with V bombs. Some of the towns to the East are getting hammered." Raking his fingers through his hair, Steve's face pulled into a grimace. "Looks like we'll be going right into the line of fire again."

The bottom of Bucky's stomach dropped out.

"How far can the bombs travel?" Gabe asked.

"Far enough," muttered Steve. He clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Come on, we need to move out. The longer we wait the riskier this is going to be."

Bucky joined Steve, Gabe and the rest of the Commandos and half of the aide team for the short drive to the hospital. Doc Holmes was waiting for them at the door with another doctor, judging by his surgeon's smock and cap. Steve jumped down to talk to them, Bucky on his heels.

"We need to talk to you, Captain," he said, wiping the sheen of sweat off his forehead. They ducked just inside the doorway.

Chaos usually accompanied hospitals in combat zones but this was a special type of anarchy, Bucky thought as he tried to listen to Doc Holmes over the din. Movement whirled through his peripheral vision and he had to jump out of the way for two men bearing a litter which held a screaming soldier.

"Doc?"

"This is Doctor Tremblay with the Canadian army." Doctor Tremblay was a tall, ghostly pale man with a shock of black hair. He looked, if possible, even more exhausted than Doc Holmes. "He would ask you himself but his English isn't very good. The hospital is overrun and understaffed. Evelyn, Sadie and I have been working overtime to help and it's still not enough. With your permission I'd like to order Nurse Lewis to stay and help Doctor Tremblay. The surgeons are in desperate need of a well-trained surgical nurse and Nurse Lewis is the best of the best."

Steve and Bucky shared a dubious glance. "You think you and Nurse Reid can handle everything just the two of you?"

Doc Holmes nodded. "Nurse Reid might as well be a doctor with her knowledge and skill set. She's more than capable of handling her duties and Evelyn's. She's gathering her gear and supplies right now."

Bucky didn't know why, but he hated the idea of Sadie being in the field without Evelyn. The two women were a package deal, especially in combat zones. Steve, however, didn't seem to see the oddity or concern at leaving Sadie to handle the role of two nurses on her own. "Tell Nurse Lewis her orders have changed and to give it her all."

Doc Holmes grinned and turned to Doctor Tremblay, giving him a thumbs up. The Doctor's weathered, concerned expression gave way to a relieved smile and he shook Bucky and Steve's hands again with unbridled enthusiasm. "Truth be told they begged to keep all of us, but a couple more days at this pace and I think I'd drop dead. Plus, someone needs to keep Nurse Reid from working herself to the bone."

Bucky scowled. He watched Doctor Tremblay shuffle away to presumably give orders to keep Evelyn at the hospital. The doctor passed Sadie who carried a larger pack than usual along with a bulging musette bag and a small supply crate. Her helmet sat on top of the crate and Bucky took note of the dark circles beneath her eyes. When she came close enough he strode forward to relieve her of the crate.

"Thanks," she said, her eyes catching his for just a fleeting second before turning to Doc Holmes. "Doctor Tremblay looks like he's ready to dance on the ceiling. I take it Evelyn is staying behind?"

"It's for the best. She'll be more useful in surgery," Doc Holmes explained and Sadie nodded. She hitched her thumbs beneath the straps of her pack to pull it higher on her shoulders. "Are you ready?"

Sadie turned her face towards the open doorway and the waiting troop truck. "Let's get going and get this over with."

Bucky couldn't have said it better himself. He followed her into the rain, jogging to the back of the truck where he lifted the supplies up to Dugan and Dernier who carried it to the head of the truck to sit with the explosives. Bucky pulled himself up and held his hand out for Sadie. She grasped it and he lifted her with ease but she filed down to sit with Second Lieutenant Danes and Corporal Gutierrez, the other members of the aide team.

"Move down, will ya?" Steve nudged Bucky as he got into the back of the truck with Doc Holmes.

Bucky nodded and plopped down next to Gabe. He cast a furtive glance down to Sadie who did her best to relax with her company, smiling when Danes offered her part of his Hershey bar. On reflex, Bucky reached for his Saint Christopher's medal, rubbing his thumb over the smooth surface.

The truck rumbled to life and carried the unit out of Antwerp, headed west.

X X X

Without Evelyn at her side, Sadie felt oddly exposed, almost naked. Even when they worked different shifts or were in different parts of the hospital, Sadie took comfort knowing they were still together. Evelyn's oddly skewed sense of humor and penchant for saying whatever was on her mind gave Sadie comfort in the midst of the worst of the war. Lately, Sadie relied on Evelyn to pick up her often flagging mood and to remind her that Bucky wasn't the sun and her life didn't revolve around him. Evelyn made the war just a little more bearable.

Sadie tried to push down the feelings of loneliness and foreboding. During the drive out of Antwerp she sent several furtive glances toward Bucky who caught her eye more than once. This simple contact only made Sadie feel worse. Her cold treatment of him at the hospital was par for the course these days, a combination of Sadie's hurting heart and lack of knowing how to deal with him. Every time she tried to find the right words to tell him she didn't want to lose him, nothing came out right or, more often, nothing came out at all. And so they continued to stand on increasingly shaky, hollow ground, ready to give out beneath them with one badly-timed word or gesture.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and attempted to divert her thoughts to anything else. A myriad of thoughts floated through her mind but always came back to the man sitting so close but still so far away.

The truck trundled to a stop outside of a miniscule village that Sadie suspected was either a ghost town or its inhabitants were hiding from the sound of the rumbling engine. A dilapidated farmhouse stood on the fringes, the furthest thing from glamorous but still better than most of Sadie's accommodations in the field.

"Let's get unloaded and inside," ordered Steve as he hopped down. Sadie's boots squelched in the muddy path up to the house. She ducked inside after Second Lieutenant Danes.

"Just once I'd like to stay some place that didn't smell like cats," muttered Danes and Sadie grinned.

"That's not cats," she noted. "That's wood rot."

Danes glanced over his shoulder. "How the hell would you know that?"

She shrugged and looked up at the exposed beams in the main room of the house. Sure enough she could see the dark sections of the beams that were beginning to crack along the surface. "There was an old barn on the back of my family's property. I used to sneak down there to play when I was a child until the building collapsed."

"Charming," muttered Corporal Gutierrez as he dropped his pack onto the table in the main room.

"Could be worse," noted Danes. "Remember that old carriage house we used in Poland?"

Gutierrez and Sadie both pulled faces. "Things can always be worse," she noted and unloaded her packs. She trotted back into the drizzle to retrieve the supply crate from the back of her truck, one of her primary jobs. The back footholds of the truck were slippery and her foot slid when she tried to pull herself up. A pair of strong hands caught her waist, steadying her and keeping her from an unfortunate meeting with the mud.

"Easy, Sade," muttered Bucky.

"I'm okay," she said softly and turned around. His hands loosened to allow her movement before coming to rest on her once more. Lifting her eyes she found him staring down at her. She swallowed hard and wished his blue gaze wasn't so intense. A hundred apologies, placations, and soothing words sprang to the tip of her tongue. Sadie was desperate to bridge the divide separating them but when she opened her mouth to speak none of that came out. "We're blocking the truck."

In an instant she knew she'd said the wrong thing. Bucky's hands left her body and his lips twisted into an ugly scowl. "Yeah, God forbid anyone see us within two feet of each other."

"Bucky, that's not what I meant," she kept her voice low but the damage was done.

"Don't worry about it," he snapped and left her standing next to the truck, trudging back inside.

Sadie stood staring at his back even after he disappeared. Beneath her feet the ground separating them crumbled and gave away just a little more. Her heart leapt into her throat along with the tears that started to sting at her eyes. Sadie combatted the emotions. The last thing she needed was one of the men seeing her this way. Turning away, she grasped the truck and pulled herself inside to retrieve the supply crate. When she came out she set it down and hopped to the ground before grabbing the crate just as Dugan clambered inside.

"Lovely weather for a mission," he groused and then winked at Sadie. "Still, beats the pants off Italy."

She snorted in laughter, glad for her friend. "That's not exactly a high bar to clear."

His grin widened. Sadie left him to carry the supplies inside. She was just inside the doorway when she heard a loud curse, a wet thump, and a distinct crack. Without a second thought she set the supplies in the hall and whirled around to see Dugan splayed on his side in the mud.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered and jogged back into the rain to his side. "Doc!"

Doc Holmes and Steve appeared in the doorway and sprinted out behind her. Sadie crouched at Dugan's side. "Sergeant Dugan?"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he growled, rolling onto his back.

Sadie could see the source of his ills right away. His elbow joint was popped out of place, at a particularly bad angle. "What happened?"

He grimaced with embarrassment. "I slipped on the goddamn ledge."

"Well, that would do it," muttered Doc Holmes as he crouched next to Sadie. "Your elbow is dislocated."

"Hurts like a son of a bitch."

"Come on, let's get you up and inside," said Steve. The captain got Dugan to his feet and he followed them inside. Dugan was a mud-caked mess though he seemed more embarrassed than he was in any real pain.

The men cleared out space on the sturdy table. "Up you get, Sergeant," ordered Sadie.

"Nurse Reid, help get his jacket off and roll his sleeve as best as you can. I'd like to see the extent of the damage."

Unlike prisoners of war or most GIs, Dugan was a very compliant patient. He moved when Sadie asked him to and together they peeled his jacket off with minimal disruption of his arm. The men milled about in the room, waiting for a diagnosis from the doctor. Sadie carefully rolled his sleeve up to reveal the angle of his forearm jutted out beyond his upper arm and already bad discoloration was beginning to form. Doc Holmes examined his arm and then turned to Sadie.

"What do you think?" He asked, putting her on the spot. Sadie's brow furrowed; lately Doc Holmes had been teaching her more about diagnostics and treatment, continuing on his crusade to convince her to apply to medical school.

"Well it's completely dislocated, you can tell by the angle of the joint there," she gestured to the bag angle. "Discoloration suggests burst vessels in the area. The humerus needs to be put back into the joint before swelling prevents it. Then bandage the arm at a right angle against the chest to keep the joint intact while it heals."

Doc Holmes beamed at her and nodded. "Very good, Nurse Reid," he glanced up at Dugan. "I'm afraid you're going to have to sit this one out, Sergeant Dugan. Any strain on the elbow while it's healing and you could do permanent damage."

"You're kidding," Dugan deadpanned.

Gabe Jones was the first man to crack. He snorted in uncontrollable laughter. "Dum Dum Dugan, tough as a charging bull, brought down by a little rain."

"Can I at least punch Jones in the face?" He whined to Sadie who was now doing her best to cage her smile.

"I wouldn't recommend it. Now lie down, you'll feel better once your elbow is back in place."

Miraculously, Dugan did exactly as asked and within minutes Sadie was carefully wrapping bandages around his arm and over his shoulder to secure his arm in place. While she tended to her patient, the rest of the men prepared for the first phase of the mission. From the briefings, Sadie understood that the unit would split into two teams and flank either side of the factory from the south on a scouting mission to get a better idea of what they were up against and to lay the groundwork for the actual action. Sadie's nerves started to twitch nervously the closer the men got to moving out. She always felt nervous when Bucky left to go on a mission but their precarious situation only made her nerves that much worse. The last time they'd parted on such bad terms Bucky was taken as a prisoner of war and she spent three weeks unsure if he was even alive. What if something awful happened to him again?

She cast a furtive glance through the large open doorway of the sitting room. Without even looking she could tie the knots on Dugan's bandages, her fingers knew the motions from hundreds, if not thousands, of bandage changes. Over his shoulder, she watched as Bucky and Steve stood in the hall in deep conversation. Sadie took a quiet moment to appreciate how Bucky's blue jacket broadened his shoulders. When he spoke he smoothed the sweep of his chestnut hair away from his forehead and his mouth broke into a small grin when Steve said something amusing. A long time ago she privately admitted to herself that her attraction to Bucky began long before she understood what her feelings were. Sadie wondered if she would always feel that way about Bucky, even if he changed his mind about her. Her heart leapt into her throat when his blue eyes caught hers before darting back, his jaw clenching. Sadie's gaze fell in disappointment.

"Nurse Reid?" Dugan's voice shattered her reverie.

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"You gonna stand there all afternoon or can I get up now?"

Sadie could hear the good humor and idiotic grin in Dugan's voice without even seeing his face. Shaking her head clear she nodded. "Of course. Just don't even think about trying to join the others when they move out."

Dugan got to his feet, spun on his heel, and gave her a mock salute. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"I don't believe you!" She called after him, earning his full-bellied laughter while he went to tell off Gabe for his jokes.

Sadie couldn't help but smile a little bit herself, glad to have even a moment's distraction. When she cleaned up it was to realize she had nothing else to do except wait. The farm house was a large enough building that she wandered through the first floor until she discovered a smaller parlor with a tall bay window that overlooked a mostly algae covered pond. The trees growing at the edge of the pond had gone too long without tending and the gnarled branches reached out for one another while weeds sprang up from the ground around the pond. A single stone bench stood off to one side, nearly obscured by the grass and wildflowers.

At some point the grounds might have been beautiful and well-tended, she thought sadly. The house showed signs that someone once loved it but those days ended some time before, possibly even years before the war. Sadie glanced at the parlor and wondered how many wives entertained and how many children played in this house. What memories were held within the walls and where were the owners now? Her thoughts carried her so far away that she had no idea she wasn't alone until a blue coat entered her field of vision and its owner cleared his throat.

"We're about to move out," said Bucky and he leaned against the window sill next to Sadie. She lifted her gaze to see Bucky staring at his boots and not at her. He kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Already his rifle was slung over one shoulder. "You'll take good care of Dum Dum?"

The corners of her mouth twitched, threatening a smile. "As much as he'll let me."

A humorless chuckle escaped Bucky's lungs. "Sounds about right. Take care of yourself too, we won't be gone long."

"I will."

Uncomfortable silence settled over them. Sadie wanted to say something to ease the tension but nothing would come out the way she wanted. In the end, Bucky beat her to the punch. "I'm sorry." He scrubbed his face with his hands, emerging more bleary eyed than he had been before. "I shouldn't have said that stuff out at the truck. Being professional on missions is important, I know it is."

"It's okay," she mumbled. Absently, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I didn't even mean to say it. Every time I try to find the right words I end up getting it all wrong."

Bucky withdrew a hand and took hers, folding her fingers against his. A flicker of warmth sprang to life in Sadie's chest at the simple touch. He rubbed his thumb over her skin, wearing a comforting path back and forth. "We both keep sticking our feet in it a lot lately, don't we?" Sadie had no argument for that because Bucky wasn't entirely wrong. Most of their interaction since Paris boiled down to badly timed words and apologies that followed soon after. "I'm tired of it, Sade. I'm tired of fighting you and of apologizing."

Sadie's heart and stomach dropped out of her body, through the floor, and somewhere in the vicinity of the Earth's core. The flicker in her chest snuffed out in a wisp of feeble smoke. A shiver ripped down her spin in its place that had nothing to do with the chilly rain outside. Sadie stared at their joined hands before she worked up the courage to peer at Bucky.

"I hate it, too." Sadie exhaled and twisted her hand in his to thread their fingers together. "I've missed you the last couple weeks."

Bucky frowned. "I didn't think you wanted me around."

Sadie employed every ounce of her willpower to keep from slipping into sarcasm and rolling her eyes. "Bucky, I always want you around."

When Bucky moved closer to her, she didn't flinch or try to move away while citing their agreement to remain professional. Every single person on the mission knew exactly what was going on and walking in on Bucky brushing his thumb over her cheek would be no less surprising than walking in on them kissing. Plus, Sadie felt determined to banish his earlier words by proving him wrong.

"The same goes for me, Sade. I want to be with you."

She swallowed, taking a moment to gather up her courage. Dragging up their fight in Paris was a calculated risk but it was one Sadie had to take. "So why can't we stop fighting each other and start fighting for us? That sounds like a much better use of our time."

Bucky cupped her cheek. "I'd like that," he said and opened his mouth to say more but was unceremoniously cut off by Morita ducking into the doorway.

"Hey, you ready to go? We're moving out."

"Yeah, just give me a second," said Bucky while he continued to stare down into Sadie's face. "We'll talk about all of this when I get back?"

Sadie heard the promise embedded in his words along with the hope that everything was going to turn out all right in the end. For now, it was enough that he wasn't ready to give up on their relationship. She rose up to the tips of her toes and kissed him once, pulling away slowly from his mouth so he felt her kiss linger in each nerve. "It's a date, buck sergeant."

Morita appeared in the doorway again. "Seriously, sickeningly cute as you two are, we're moving out now!"

"Yeah!" Bucky snapped. "Heard you the first time. I'm coming."

Sadie unwillingly relinquished his hands and watched him retreat for the door. He paused in the doorway and smiled at her, before he disappeared through the doorway. Moments later she heard the sound of an engine rumble to life. The Commandos were headed for their next objective before splitting off to begin the real work for the mission. When she ambled out into the main room of the house, Doc Holmes was shuffling a deck of cards.

"Pull up a seat and play a few hands with us, Nurse Reid," said Corporal Gutierrez.

"Don't think we're going to go easy on you just 'cause you're the prettiest face in the room," added Dugan with a wink.

Sadie rolled her eyes. "Instead you're just going to act like a caveman?"

Dugan rewarded her cheek with a wicked grin. "Look, if you're suggesting I'm prettier than you are I'm certainly not going to argue with your authority. I've been told my eyes shine like sapphires."

Doc Holmes coughed hard over his laugh.

"I think I have a compact mirror in my musette if you'd like to drown in your own reflection," said Sadie in a deadpan voice, feeling more upbeat and happier than she had in days. "In the meantime how about you take the deck and deal instead?"

X X X

Sadie checked her watch. "When did Captain Rogers say they'd be back from recon?"

Doc Holmes glanced up from his cards and looked at his own watch, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Good lord, has it been three hours already? I think he said setting up their position and scouting out the factory could take all night."

The rain let up at some point during their game but the clouds remained, hanging low over the horizon and throwing off Sadie's sense of time. Already it was almost six o'clock and soon darkness would force its way between the clouds and blanket the farmhouse. There was plenty to do before then. Using the coming night as an excuse to weasel her way out of dealing with her wretched hand, Sadie laid her cards face down on the table and stood.

"We should block the windows. Doc Holmes, you're on KP this time?"

"Yes, I believe it's my turn. Though why any of you eat anything I cook is beyond me," Doc Holmes added under his breath. He left his cards behind and Dum Dum started to rise from his chair to help Sadie and Gutierrez unpack the tarps the would use to block the windows so they could light a couple of lanterns in the main room. As Sadie passed behind him, she put her hands on his good shoulder and forced him back down.

" _Rest_ ," she ordered. "The more you exert yourself the longer your recovery will be."

Dum Dum started to protest and in the midst of his grumbling, Gutierrez slung a rifle over his shoulder. "I'll be back, gotta take a leak."

Doc Holmes and Sadie shared a disparaging look at Gutierrez's coarse phrasing. The radioman trudged out into the rain, shoving his helmet on his head. While Dum Dum supervised Doc Holmes' KP skills, Sadie started hanging one of the tarps up, securing it with a few nails hammered into the wood with the butt of her flashlight. Just as she stepped off the rickety chair she used for support she heard a familiar rumble.

As one, Doc Holmes and Dum Dum straightened, Dum Dum upending his chair in his haste to get to his feet. Sadie slowly stepped down. The floor creaked beneath her boots. Nobody dared moved a muscle. Sadie felt her heart begin to beat harder while she waited, statue still, for the next round. More explosions cut through the stifling quiet. Sadie blinked and nearly stumbled backwards when she saw a flash of fire and remembered the world splitting in two right before her. Images of dying soldiers and Betty accompanied the next explosions along with the memory of the smoke that flooded her lungs burned her eyes and nose.

"Sadie?" Doc Holmes touched her elbow.

She jerked back violently, wheeling around to catch his wide-eyed expression. Two words forced up from her lungs and leapt off the tip of her tongue. "Not again."

The front door flew open with a shuddering bang. Gutierrez clutched the frame, panting and struggling to string a sentence together. "Ran to the ridge," he gulped in another breath of air, "village under attack."

Dum Dum cursed under his breath. "Cap got a report that the Germans were launching counter attacks from Brussels."

Sadie's mouth rounded in surprise and mild horror. "V2's?"

"Must be."

Doc Holmes released Sadie's elbow and strode out of the front room, turning right down the main hallway. Between the shell bursts she heard him yanking doors open before he called out. "There's a cellar!"

"That's where we need to be," agreed Dum Dum. "You got everything you need?"

"Lanterns and rations," muttered Sadie. "We keep extras in the lockboxes on the trucks."

Another shell burst went off, rattling the rafters just enough to shake some of the dust free. Sadie and Dum Dum stared up at the ceiling and then shared a concerned glance. "I've got them."

Gutierrez disappeared, headed for the truck Steve and the others left behind. Sadie reached for any available pack to haul downstairs. Dum Dum remained hot on her heels with the gear he could gather with one hand. Doc Holmes intercepted her in the hall.

"Here, I'll take those."

Sadie couldn't keep track of the rush of activity that unfolded in the course of mere minutes. Every passing second brought the danger closer and closer. The floor began to tremble beneath her feet, rising through the soles of her boots and into her body. Every nerve ending in her body twitched uncomfortably. Bitter adrenaline filled her mouth and spurred her to move faster than she ever had before. Her recurring nightmares about that long night in Italy were bad enough, Sadie wanted to go the rest of life without a repeat experience.

Gutierrez shoved a pack in Sadie's arms. "The hand radio and extra batteries. I'm going to fire up the truck and see if I can get a distress call out to Gabe's handset."

Sadie argued vehemently with him while she slung the bag over her shoulder. She followed him to the front door and watched him lope across the muddy stretch of ground to the troop carrier.

Another boom shook the house. Sadie's stomach dropped out. Her mind bypassed Italy and reached for the storms from her childhood and the twisters that ripped through Arkansas every spring. More than once she'd clutched her father's hand while her family took shelter in the cellar just a few yards away from the family house. The darkening sky reminded her of the imposing storm clouds but Sadie was certain she'd take a twister over the fate awaiting her and the others if they didn't take shelter. Gutierrez continued to fiddle in the truck when a bomb went off that blew the trees apart down the lane. Sadie's stomach rolled.

Every childhood and army memory screamed at Sadie to turn on heel and flee. But her feet remained rooted to the floor while she screamed for Gutierrez to abandon the truck. Whether he heard her or not, he appeared within seconds. She gripped either side of the doorway yelling for Gutierrez to cross the open space. One second he was midstride, sprinting towards the front door and the relative safety of the cellar. The next three explosions went off in rapid-fire succession and the troop carrier next to Gutierrez blew sideways right into his body. Sadie covered her mouth to muffle her shriek. He flew across the drive like a child's ragdoll and landed in the mud, stone still and missing most of his left leg. Even from the house, Sadie could see the bone in his arm protruding through his skin and his back cracked at an unnatural angle.

Panic and reflex overrode logic. One foot was barely over the threshold as Sadie prepared to drag his body to safety when a strong arm wrapped around her waist.

"No!" The feral word ripped from her throat and she struggled against the far stronger Dum Dum. He dragged her backwards into the house just as another series of shells rocked the surrounding woods. The impact cause the windows in the front room to shatter. "We can't just leave him!"

"He's dead!" Dum Dum roared. With zero effort, he lifted her feet right off the floor and swung her around. "I'm not gonna let you join him!"

When he released her, Sadie stumbled forward and only just kept herself upright at the top of the stairs leading down to the cellar. Dum Dum remained at the top of the stairs bellowing for Doc Holmes and urging Sadie to get to safety. Inky darkness engulfed her and she cursed under her breath when she ran into the corner of a table, bruising her hip.

"Come on, Doc!" Dum Dum's voice echoed through the cellar but still barely rose above the sound of the shells bursting. The house rocked and Doc Holmes appeared at the top of the stairs, laden with the other two bags and a third at his feet. He shoved the third bag into Dugan's arm.

A shell went off and the wood beams holding up the house gave with an earsplitting crack. Sadie's heart leapt into her throat. Dum Dum reached the bottom of the stairs and she acted on instinct. Reaching out blindly, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and, ignoring his injured arm, jerked him further into the cellar. The last thing Sadie saw was Doc Holmes trying to get to the bottom of the staircase.

A deafening boom accompanied the creaking and crashing that robbed Sadie of her senses. Above a shell split the house apart and sent it tumbling down overhead, plunging her into total darkness. A powerful cloud of dust and debris forced its way down stairs and blew her clean off her feet just as Dum Dum's hand closed around her arm. Her body slammed into the floor and she struck her forehead on the edge of something hard. A high-pitched ring filled her ears before Dum Dum's body fell on top of hers and she remembered no more.

X X X

Bucky hated scouting maneuvers and he hated them even more in the rain. He hated being wet in general. Even as a child he hadn't been much of a swimmer, preferring baseball to all other activities. But sitting beneath a large tree in the middle of a forest in Belgium under the pouring rain, Bucky's mood wasn't as dreadful as he thought it would be. In fact, compared to the previous month he was downright cheerful in spite of the rain soaking through his hair and weighing down his jacket.

The improvement of his mood had everything to do with the brief goodbye he shared with Sadie, their first good exchange in he couldn't remember how long. The knowledge that what he and Sadie had was still salvageable made all the difference in his attitude. The weight he'd been carrying around loosened from his shoulders now that losing her didn't feel like a certainty. Relieved of this extra burden he could see the light at the end of the tunnel and the reason in Evelyn's words, unknowingly echoed by Sadie herself. If fighting for the love of his life wasn't worth abandoning a lonely road to nowhere, then what was?

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asked from where he crouched next to him, staring out into the dismal scenery. An ugly fence topped with loops of barbed wire guarded an equally ugly compound. Plumes of smoke and steam issued from the vents low to the ground to disguise the discharge. Two rows of enormous tanks stood in an open hangar that also housed a knot of HYDRA soldiers going about their daily routine. Behind the hangar the factory loomed, not quite as large as some of the structures Bucky saw in Poland but still big enough to be a challenge. Soldiers stood watch in the towers that dotted the fence and several men prowled along the borders on foot, holding menacing-looking rifles. None of this surprised Bucky, with each HYRDA holdout Steve's team destroyed the security at the next increased in response.

"I'm good," he replied and pointed to the fence. "You think that Falsworth and Dernier's diversion is going to work to get all them out of the way?"

"God, I hope so."

At that precise moment, Falsworth, Dernier, and Morita were scouting for the weakest point in the factory's layout to then lay charges on a timer to explode at the right time for an assault. Bucky already had his first position selected to pick off guards from a distance, providing covering fire for the rest of the team while they wrecked the yard. From there he would join the main assault to bring the raze the factory to the ground.

It would all happen in phases, planned and improved over each mission. First was scouting followed by a return to the base camp before returning at nightfall to take the factory. If everything went according to plan they'd be finished by morning and back in Antwerp and then back in London to plan the next.

Somewhere between all of that Bucky had to find the time to get Sadie alone long enough to make up or, at least, to get back on the right footing to eventually make everything right. Bucky suspected the conversation wouldn't go as smoothly as he wanted it to but anything had to be better than where they were now. His mother taught him that good marriages were built on compromises. Surely there was a compromise buried in the mess that would work for both of them, allowing for a future. The thought of losing Sadie in any regard was simply unacceptable. Knowing she still felt the same way gave him hope that they could find a light at the end of the long tunnel.

After all, she still kissed him with meaning and still left him burning for more. When he left her back at the base camp he knew she stood in the back room for some time, desperate to compose herself before she joined the others. The corners of his mouth pulled just thinking about the way she probably pressed the back of her hands over her cheeks in a fruitless attempt to chase the blush away. Bucky loved making her blush. He loved the way she couldn't meet his eye or how she would slap his shoulder in retaliation when he truly embarrassed her. There was something so wonderfully innocent in how her hollowed cheeks flushed, giving her back the color and fullness the war had callously taken from her.

Bucky wondered what Sadie would look like in the years after the war ended. His hands imagined petal smooth skin and softer curves that would pillow his head whenever he laid across her lap. A book perched in her hands while the small, stark white scars diminished with time. Would she let her hair grow out so it spilled down to her mid-back whenever they were alone and she let him pull out her hairpins? Bucky hoped so. He hoped that her cheeks would fill out again and that her smile would be the rule and not the exception. A small smile of his own came to his mouth as he thought about waking up next to her every morning without fear of intrusions or raised eyebrows or bombs and bullets threatening to rend their world apart. Bucky wanted to be there for all of it, more than he wanted anything else, a bullet between Zola's eyes included.

A metallic click caught Bucky's attention. Steve continued to open and shut the cover of his compass out of nervous habit. The tic wasn't anything new, Bucky remembered Steve drumming pencils on the back of his chair during class or spinning bottle caps on counter tops whenever he got anxious. Every time Bucky caught a glance of the picture adorning in the interior of the cover he wanted to tease Steve mercilessly. The picture of Agent Carter was a nice one, capturing both her beauty and no-nonsense nature at once. Bucky only teased Steve about the picture once before Steve pointed out that Bucky was guilty of the exact same crime. Even now a photograph of Sadie resided in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Bucky kept his eyes on the perimeter, listening and waiting for any sign of their returning comrades. Still, he couldn't quite stop himself from butting into Steve's business. "You know if you asked she'd probably say yes to a date."

Steve snorted. "Since when are you interested in my love life?"

"Payback for all your nosing around in mine." Bucky shrugged and tried not to let his smug grin show. After all, he wasn't exactly winning any awards for boyfriend of the year at the moment. "In all seriousness, she's not gonna wait around for you forever."

"I don't know. Sometimes I still feel like that skinny kid from Brooklyn."

Bucky did smirk this time. "You are still that skinny dumbass, even if you don't look like it anymore."

Rustling in the trees caught Bucky's attention. Gabe appeared, emerging from the thick bushes that surrounded their position. His raincoat looked a size too big for him and water ran down the sleeves in rivulets before dripping onto the leaves scattered across the ground. "Perimeter is clear, no sign of Falsworth and the others. Any major movement down below?"

"Not yet," said Steve, glancing back at the fence.

Bucky started to relax when the distant sound of explosions interrupted his thoughts. He and Steve sat up at the same time and Gabe frowned. "The village?"

"Must be," muttered Steve. "Looks like the intel reports were right."

Bucky's stomach twisted. The town was less than two miles from the farmhouse where Sadie and the others resided. In the grand scheme of things, two miles was a stone's throw for V weapons and if the Germans were really using them in retaliation for losing Brussels then Sadie was in the line of fire.

He never got a chance to think about it. A burst of blue light shot past his head, blowing a semi-circular hole in the tree next to him. Steve and Gabe followed his example and threw themselves onto the ground.

"The fuck was that?" Gabe cried, echoing Bucky's thoughts perfectly.

More shots fired through their clearing. Bucky dared to lift his head just enough to try and locate his attackers. He couldn't see anything through the rain and the bushes. The next shot hit the ground in front of Gabe, kicking up wet leaves in his face.

"We've gotta get out of here!" Steve exclaimed, leading the crawl away from their position and down the opposite side of the hill. Bucky followed with trepidation and no other choice. Downhill the trees thinned and would open them to attack on the other side if any guard at the tower saw them, a likelihood considering all the noise they made.

One thing was unfortunately certain. HYDRA had known the Howling Commandos were coming and it was ready.

X X X

Awareness came to Sadie slowly, starting the with high-pitched ringing in her ears and the nauseating sensation that the room was spinning in circles. Though she'd yet to open her eyes Sadie knew it was pitch black in the room, further distorting her perception. She lay on a hard floor that dug into her hip and shoulder where she'd landed. Something sticky pulled at her eyebrow and although she couldn't quite place it, Sadie figured the substance was related to the almighty pounding in her head. Every part of her hurt, as though she'd been hit head on by a speeding train.

Part of the weight on her body shifted, rolling off with a decidedly male grunt. "Jesus fucking Christ. Am I dead? This isn't how I figured it'd be."

The male voice barely wormed past the ringing and Sadie couldn't place the voice's owner at first. Her sluggish brain struggled to piece together the span of empty time that led to her waking up in total darkness halfway beneath a rather large man. Images bloomed out of the inkiness along with sounds that she'd rather forget. Bombs dropping and glass shattering. A body sent flying and a roof collapsing. Dum Dum falling on top of her.

"Sadie? Doc?" She now recognized Dum Dum's gravelly voice. "Sade, are you alive?"

A pained moan wormed itself free of Sadie's raw throat. She rolled over onto her back, feeling every inch of her body protest. "I'm okay, I think."

"Oh thank God."

Sadie threw out a hand to feel around for any part a bag she could reach. "Flashlight," she mumbled. Sitting up took a near Herculean effort. She bumped into someone solid. Dum Dum groped for her shoulder, squeezing it once. Sadie blinked away the liquid that fell into her eye. She scrambled for an explanation as to why Dum Dum Dugan was in the cellar with her until the memory resurfaced. "How's your elbow?"

"Hurts like a son of a bitch but I'll survive. Where's the doc?"

Her fingers came into contact with the rough canvas of a musette. Blindly she patted the cover to feel the large circle to indicate it was her musette which contained a flashlight. Peeling back the flap she plunged her hand into the depths.

"Doc!" Dum Dum shouted, his voice now clearer to Sadie as the ringing subsided.

"Doctor Holmes? Doc, can you hear me? Are you okay?" No answer.

The longer Sadie sat and focused on the simple task of finding a flashlight the sharper her mind became. Her hand sifted between tins containing suture kits, morphine, bandages, and rations until at last she closed her hand over the angled-head flashlight she always carried.

"Come on, Doc, answer us!" A rare note of panic laced Dum Dum's voice.

"Ian? Ian!"

Sadie felt the same panic now, burgeoning as she started to come to grips with their situations. Fear put her heart in an icy vice grip. Her eyes refused to adjust to the total darkness while she fumbled for the switch on the flashlight. When she finally found it the narrow beam of light fell across Dum Dum's booted feet and knees as he struggled up to his feet.

"Here." Dum Dum held his hand out to her and she gripped it tightly, letting him pull her up to her feet. Without bothering to ask permission, he took the light from her hand and held it up to her face. Sadie recoiled and moved a hand to shield her eyes. "Shit, you're bleeding pretty bad."

Sadie withdrew her hand to find it coated with fresh blood. The source of her headache now became all-too clear as the pain moved to a central location just above her right eyebrow. A deep cut stung when she went to wipe the blood from the wound. But that would have to wait.

"Doctor Holmes!"

When Sadie turned around and followed the light as Dum Dum cast it across the far end of the cellar near the stairs, she couldn't find them. She covered her mouth to shield her surprise. A wave of rubble and debris sloped downward from the intact portion of the ceiling above them. Chunks of plaster and splintered wood support beams protruded from the dust and crumbled brick that was once a quaint, rundown farm house. The pile created a thick, unstable barrier between them and the outside world.

True panic took root in Sadie's stomach now. She swept her eyes across the pile. Doc Holmes was nowhere to be seen. "No," she whispered, horrorstruck. "No, no, no."

"Doc!" Dum Dum started to go forward to the pile, holding the flashlight higher.

Sadie lurched forward, ignoring her screaming hip and stiff body. Dust loosened from her clothes as she walked and her boots echoed through the mostly empty room. Blood started to trickle back down into her eye and she wiped it away impatiently. With Dugan holding the light higher, he was able to cast a wider beam.

"I don't see him." He sounded as grim and worried as Sadie felt.

And then she saw it, a set of fingertips poking through the rubble.

"There!" She pointed and moved to begin shifting the debris away. Sadie cleared enough away to free his wrist and she pressed two fingers over his pulse only to pull away in horror.

"What's wrong?"

"His pulse," her voice cracked over the words, "I can't feel it."

 **A/N: If you can imagine it, the original cliffhanger for this chapter was worse than that. Next chapter literally picks up where we leave off. Feel free to throw all the things at me, I probably deserve it for this one.**

 **Throwing things aside, I live for your feedback – so let me know what you think! Much love – Kappa.**


	27. Blood and Brotherly Bonds

**A/N: Greetings from cold Colorado! I'm about 200% sure there are some minor logistical inconsistences in this chapter from last but I've learned to live with them and I hope you can too. Also, I'm not sure how many people actually read author's notes but I wanted to address the sequel again. I DO intend to go on and write a sequel. I'm still in the planning process but I can tell you that it has a title and a loose plot. Depending on when I finish Songbirds in relation to the MCU the sequel is probably going to be a stand-alone affair somewhere in the midst of CW and the upcoming Avengers Installment. Even though I know how Songbirds is going to lead into a sequel I still love hearing your predictions and theories and ideas for what's going to happen.**

 **Now that that's out of the way – HOLY SHIT 350+ reviews! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed. As always, much love to my beta-ever-perfect Stencil Your Heart without whom my commas would be forever misplaced. Also, parts of this chapter haven't been through beta so forgive my typos!**

 **Warnings – Language, gore and feels hoo-boy the feels…**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Cap.**

 **Chapter 27 – Blood and Brotherly Bonds**

Sadie's throat quivered when she exhaled. The ringing in her ears subsided and as it did new sounds reached her aching brain. Above her the house settled not in gentle creaks but in groans and cracks that reminded her of trees that split and fell during lightning storms. Thunder rumbled - or was it more bombs? Sadie couldn't tell. Though she wouldn't hear Doc Holmes' pulse regardless, she still strained to feel it, shifting her fingers on his wrist while Dum Dum continued to shift the rubble away to find the doctor's head.

Nothing.

Nothing.

And then-

The whisper of feeling reached the pads of her fingers, rising up through the thinnest point of his skin. At first Sadie thought she was willing his pulse into existence and she removed her fingers, closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on what was really happening. Sliding two fingers back over his inner wrist, she felt out for the right point again and felt it once more. Sadie couldn't even call the thready beats thumps - more like brushes - but that was still better than nothing.

"Sade?"

Dropping Doc Holmes' wrist, Sadie started to help Dum Dum clear away the rubble. "He's still alive. We need to find his head and clear his airway."

Spurred on by the hope that they could save their friend, the pair began to shift bits of splintered wood, sweep away the dust, and pull off parts of the stairs. She forced herself not to imagine finding Doc Holmes only to watch him die within seconds. Dum Dum grabbed a larger piece of wood and when he tugged it free a small slide of rubble washed down onto Sadie's boots, nearly burying all of their progress. She ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach and the near-crippling fear that the entire slide would give way and bury all of them alive. Finally, a face emerged from the debris.

"Doc?"

Sadie didn't know why she bothered; Doc Holmes was out cold, but seeing his face gave Sadie and Dum Dum the push they needed to clear his shoulders. Together, they grasped onto him beneath his arms and started to gently pull him free. His body wouldn't budge. Sadie snatched the flashlight and walked around Dum Dum, treading carefully on the rubble at the base of the pile. A large section of the door covered part of his body, catching on the toe of his boot.

"You sure you can lift that on your own?" Dum Dum's hesitance pricked several nerves but there wasn't time for a lecture. Instead she pushed the butt of the flashlight into the mess at an angle, lighting the door. Kneeling down, she gripped the door and tested it. Sadie was certain she could lift it just high enough, but knew she wouldn't be able to hold it long.

"You sure you can pull him out one-handed?" She asked.

Only Dum Dum Dugan could see the humor in her barb and in such a dire situation, but Sadie was glad he did because his chuckle gave her a little boost of confidence. "We'll go on three. You count."

Sadie grasped the door as best as she could. "One, two, three!"

The door was heavier than she anticipated and she put all of her strength into it. Rough edges of wood cut into her hands but she pushed through the pain, gritting her teeth and lifting it just high enough that it cleared the tips of Doc Holmes' boots. Dum Dum gave a grunt and pulled, sliding him free. Sadie's heart leapt into her throat when she set the door down. The shift of the rubble came sliding down to her. Overhead the ceiling beams cracked.

The unstable ceiling turned out to be the least of Sadie's problem. A colorful curse forced Sadie to whirl around. Her heart sank from her throat, plummeting past her stomach and through the floor.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that's not good."

Upon closer inspection, Sadie identified the debris as part of the wrought iron fire poker from the upstairs room. The blast twisted and broke the metal, sending part of it right through Doc Holmes' thigh as though his flesh were made of butter. The chunk of metal stuck right through his reinforced uniform, ringed with blood that continued to seep through and stain the fabric.

A word escaped Sadie's trembling lips, one she'd never uttered before. " _Fuck_."

Dum Dum blinked owlishly at her. "So, way worse than not good."

First things first: Sadie shoved the flashlight into Dum Dum's good hand. Dropping to her knees, she pressed her fingers to the pulse point on his neck. A fresh wave of bitter panic flooded her mouth. She pressed her cheek against his chest, waiting for the rise and fall that never came.

"He's not breathing."

Unconscious of her own actions, Sadie fell into a familiar mode as though she stood in the middle of a crowded, hectic field hospital and not the dark basement of a half-collapsed farm house. She tilted Doc Holmes' head back to open up his airway. Placing one hand on top of the other, she found the right spot on his chest and began pumping her hands in a smooth motion before pinching his nose and covering his mouth with hers, forcing air into his lungs. Doc Holmes remained unresponsive.

"Goddamnit." Dum Dum's grim tone suggested defeat.

But Sadie remained undaunted and she repeated the motions, shaking her head with determination. "Not today, Ian."

Midway through the third breath she pushed into his lungs, Doc Holmes jerked before he coughed hard, expelling dust from his airway. Sadie hastily rolled him onto his side. "Sergeant Dugan, my canteen is in my bag. Will you get it?"

Dum Dum turned away, engulfing Sadie in darkness while she continued to support Doc Holmes. "You're alright," she promised in a soothing voice while he continued to cough. Sadie could hear the pain in each convulsion of his chest. In a pathetic attempt to dispel those worries, she rubbed his shoulder back and forth while she listened to Dum Dum root through her bag. He returned with the full canteen. "Alright Doc, let's sit you up."

Doc Holmes, still completely disoriented, was limp and difficult to maneuver but eventually Sadie got her arms beneath his and she used her considerable strength to pull him up against her. Anchoring him with an arm around his waist, she took the open canteen from Dum Dum. Doc Holmes coughed at the first touch of liquid to his lips.

"Easy, Doc. Just take it easy," Dum Dum counseled while Sadie tried again, this time getting him to successfully drink from the canteen. Doc Holmes smacked his lips before opening his mouth once more. Sadie gave him another measure of water and tightened her hold when more of his weight slumped back against her. His breaths were labored, coming out harder and heavier than they should have for a man his size. As the world came into focus for him, his eyes drew to the iron buried in his leg.

"How bad?"

"I don't know yet. I was more concerned with getting you breathing again."

Doc Homes dropped his head back against her shoulder and cursed under his breath. "It hurts like-"

"Like a son of a bitch?" Dum Dum supplied when Doc Holmes couldn't finish his sentence.

"Precisely."

Unbidden to her, Sadie's lips pulled into a faint smile. She brushed the hair from Doc Holmes' clammy forehead. "Well, let's not waste any more time. Dum Dum, grab another lantern or flashlight and start going through the packs, will you? I need to know what medical supplies survived as well as how much food and water we have."

"Sure thing, Nurse. Looking for anything particular?"

"Morphine, sulfanilamide, bandages, gauze, anything for wound care and pain management." Sadie shifted her body and reached for the nearest pack. "Alright, Doc, I'm going to lay you back so I can take a look at you. Aside from your leg, how are you feeling?"

She eased herself to the side and carefully lowered Doc Holmes back, resting his head on the pack, the best pillow she could find. Any movement at all jostled his leg, causing him even more pain. Sweat beaded at his forehead and poured down his temples. She suspected he was sweaty and clammy everywhere.

"Can't feel much else."

Further into the room, Dum Dum clattered around, rooting in the semi-darkness until he found a lantern which blazed to life. He dug through packs, sorting through the supplies and calling out the things he found as he located them. Through his initial efforts, Sadie collected her stethoscope and scissors. Tuning out Dum Dum's colorful commentary turned out to be a difficult endeavor while she examined Doc Holmes as best as she could. With his mind squarely on the pain in his leg and nothing else he was a model patient, allowing her to listen to his lungs and palpate his abdomen to check for any signs of internal bleeding. He said nothing at all until Sadie used the scissors to begin cutting his pant leg open to address his wound.

The pain must have been excruciating because Doc Holmes cried out and lost the last shred of his usually upright composure. Sadie's heart contorted. Her attempts at delicacy ended up making the process even longer and more unbearable but her brain wouldn't allow her to turn off her empathy. More than ever she wished Doc Holmes was nothing more than a strange soldier.

At last she cleared away the fabric and shined the flashlight on every facet of the wound. Doc Holmes panted hard and his white undershirt stuck to his chest. "How bad?"

Sadie frowned. "It's hard to tell. Judging by the angle I'd say it missed any major arteries but I also don't know how long it is and if I try to remove it," her voice dropped off uncomfortably.

"I could bleed to death."

She swallowed. Stillness on the other side of the room told her that Dum Dum stopped his activities and was listening intently. "Yes."

Doc Holmes nodded. "I agree. It's in there deep and it's too risky. So then what?"

Her eyebrows flew up. "Doc Holmes, this is hardly a teaching moment."

He grimaced. "It's not. You're going to have to be my doctor now, Sadie. I'm asking you what you're going to do."

The answer came to her within seconds. "Morphine if we have it and a tourniquet to decrease blood flow. Sulfa to stymy the bleeding, gauze and bandages to soak up the blood and stabilize the iron. Your leg needs to stay level with your heart."

"I've got the morphine right here!"

Dum Dum lumbered back to her side. Sadie blinked as more blood splashed onto her eyelashes. Without thinking, she wiped it away and then took one of the syrettes in Dum Dum's hands. Popping the cap off, she pulled the loop wire out of the needle and then slid it beneath Doc Holmes' skin in his leg. In a matter of minutes the doctor relaxed, blinking up at the ceiling. He drifted in and out of sleep as Sadie went to work, cleaning the wound and wrapping it up as best as she could. When she finished she went to check Doc Holmes' pulse again.

"I'm still alive," he promise in a wry voice. "You should let me treat your forehead. You're bleeding quite profusely."

"I'm fine," she argued, though her headache was reaching dizzying new heights of misery. Doc Holmes raised an irritated eyebrow.

"I swear, Nurse Reid, if I had a dollar for every time you said that and didn't mean it I'd be a wealthy man."

Sadie scowled. "You went to Harvard medical school and you come from northeast coal money. You're already wealthy."

"You know what I mean. It won't take long."

"Heart level with your leg," she reminded him gently. Glancing up, she smiled at Dum Dum. "Besides, I'm sure Sergeant Dugan is up to the task. Aren't you?"

"Slap a white apron on me and call me nurse," he joked.

Sadie was loathe to leave her patient even for a few minutes but she dutifully sat down so Dum Dum could clean and bandage her cut. Doc Holmes slept peacefully for now, but Sadie knew his battle was just beginning. She sorted through the supplies that Dum Dum scrounged up. Plenty of rations would keep them fed for a few days at the least if they were careful, but what worried her more was the lack of water.

"How long do you think it will take the others to come back?" She asked under her breath as she parsed out the morphine they had, praying it would be enough to see Doc Holmes through.

"No clue. Could be the morning assuming nothing goes wrong. But if Cap and Falsworth see the tactical advantage they'll stay long enough to take out the factory."

That's what Sadie feared. For all of his skill and acumen as a leader, Steve had a bad habit of plowing ahead when an opportune moment presented itself. She glanced back up at the ceiling and wondered how long until the next barrage of bombs or whether the house would hold up long enough for anyone to find them. Would they see the wreckage and assume everyone was dead? Sadie didn't want to believe that. She preferred to think that Bucky would remove every piece of debris himself if that was what it took to find her.

Doc Holmes coughed in his sleep. Sadie had no idea how long he could live in his current state but she knew that his chances diminished with every minute that ticked by. "And if we try to dig ourselves out?"

Dum Dum scowled. "I think there's a good chance the roof'll come down on us."

Sadie blew out a hard sigh. "How are we going to get out of this one?"

X X X

Bucky backed up against a large tree, flattening his shoulders against the curve. He held his rifle in one hand while he reached for one of the spare ammo cartridges he kept in a leather pouch on his belt. Holding his breath, he shoved the cartridge between his chin and chest while he discharged the empty from his rifle, muffling the sound as much as he could in his hands and against his jacket. After the empty cartridge came free he paused, listening for the sound of movement in the woods behind him. When he heard nothing he reloaded his rifle as swiftly and silently as he could, mentally patting himself on the back for keeping his rifle in such pristine working condition. Now that his weapon was back in commission he glanced to his left where he saw Gabe and Steve watching him and waiting.

Being the best shot in the company had very few pitfalls but one of them was certainly having to hang back and watch his friends rush into the line of fire while he picked the enemy off from a distance. Growing up Bucky was always shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve during fights or he was the one to finish them. He hated watching Steve check his grip on his shield and Gabe ensure he had easy access to the backup pistol he carried in addition to his rifle. If his brothers-in-arms were going to be in the thick of battle it only felt right that he should be there too.

But orders were orders, even when they came from Steve. And when Steve wanted Bucky laying down covering fire then that's what Bucky did whether he liked it or not. Right now that was his sole job on this earth, to have Steve's back while he charged headlong into yet another dangerous situation.

He fought the impulse to snort in laughter. Dangerous didn't even begin to approach the situation they were in. The HYDRA unit tasked with ambushing the trio pursued them down the hill where only a deep ditch on the roadside saved them from meeting a grisly end by the HYDRA guards patrolling the watch towers along the factory fence. Bucky had never stayed so low and run so fast in his life, following after Steve until he turned back into the woods, trudging deeper into trees with the half-formed, mostly stupid plan to surround the HYDRA unit and take them out first.

Several factors assisted Steve's plan, including the relentless rain that soaked the ground and muffled their steps. Stretching their army of three as wide as safely possible, they managed to create confusion by taking out four separate guards from seemingly opposite directions before pulling back and regrouping. Gabe got a good count on the remaining soldiers and now it was a simple matter of hunting them down. A few trees down, Gabe checked his watch and shook his head. Bucky's only indication of the time was the slowly darkening sky. They had to finish their maneuver and take cover soon. Bucky didn't relish spending the night above ground.

In the silence, Bucky strained his ears for any indication of movement. Eventually he heard it, the low rumble of voices in a foreign language. A rueful, grim sort of expression twisted his face. If not for their idiocy, those soldiers might have happened upon Steve and his team.

Steve readjusted his grip on his shield and then made the hand signals Bucky expected. Bucky would move out first and open fire. Steve would charge up the center while Gabe flanked his open side. There were six HYDRA soldiers in total, a drop in the bucket compared to what they'd taken out in the past.

Bucky took a deep breath and made eye contact with Steve who waited for him to give his okay. He listened for footfall, finally hearing the damp steps to his left, exposed side. All he gave Steve in the way of a signal was a single nod before he rolled out to the left, raised his rifle and popped off a round. The HYDRA soldier dropped like a sack of bricks.

Steve swung into the open, shield raised to deflect the bullets that came zooming towards the shield before he threw it hard. Bucky saw the sharp edge of the shield hit a soldier just as he heard the sickening crack of the soldier's neck. Gabe ran along Steve's right, firing off shots as best as he could and dropping one of the soldiers rushing towards him. Bucky waited for Steve to move before he got in another clean shot at a second soldier. One by one the six soldiers fell until the clearing was littered with bodies. Steve harnessed his shield and Bucky jogged to his side.

" I think that went well," said Steve approvingly, putting his hands on his hips and surveying the damage.

Gabe balked and made a face at Bucky over Steve's shoulder. "No offense, Cap, but we really need to talk about your definition of things going well."

Steve lifted one corner of his mouth in a cocky grin. "We're doing better than they are at least. What time is it?"

"Almost seven," said Gabe. "We were supposed to rendezvous with the others over two hours ago."

Bucky scowled, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "Chances are if we ran into trouble they did too. Where the hell are we anyway?"

It took a map and Steve's trusty compass to place their position, over two miles away from where they should have been. This was not part of Steve's plan. "There's no way we can cover that much ground before dark."

"Yeah, but if we make it at least half a mile we'll be in some of the denser trees. We can dig in there and wait the night out before going to the rendezvous point first thing in the morning. If we don't run into Falsworth and the others there we'll just keep going to the house," Bucky suggested, tracing his finger due East towards the meeting point.

"Bucky's right," agreed Gabe. "Plus, you couldn't pay me to dig in next to all these guys," he nudged one of the bodies with the toe of his combat boot.

Steve agreed and the trio set off on the short half-mile march before digging into the soaking ground beneath the cover of several massive trees. The rain made for a miserable set up but a foxhole set into a ridge was far better than sitting out in the open. Bucky, Steve, and Gabe settled in for the long night ahead, each man entertaining unpleasant thoughts about what their comrades were going through in that very moment.

X X X

Sadie never strayed far from Doc Holmes. Even though the cellar was small she never moved out of his immediate reach. She was there to continually check his vital signs, to give him water when he asked for it, and to soothe him when he started to cough or shout in his sleep. Into the night she stayed with Doc Holmes and when her own body begged for respite she laid next to him, folding his hand in hers so she could feel his pulse. She drifted off sometime after midnight but woke less than an hour later in a cold sweat. A cry of horror died on her lips when she sat bolt upright, clutching her chest. Still blind from panic she clawed at her shirt until she grasped the silver chain and closed her hand over her father's ring.

"Sadie?" Dum Dum's groggy voice pierced through the darkness. "That you?"

Speaking and catching her breath at the same time proved a difficult task. At last she managed to croak out a pathetic answer. "Yeah."

"You okay?"

Behind her, she heard the shift of a body and footfall. Dum Dum groaned a little as he sat down next to her. The words 'I'm fine' sprang to the tip of her tongue on sheer reflex but before she even knew what she was doing a different answer overrode her rote response.

"No, are you?"

A gravelly chuckle rose up from his throat. "Not even a little bit." Sadie relaxed just a fraction in relief, glad that she wasn't alone in her feelings. "Nightmare?"

Dum Dum's question contained a trace of apprehension and anxiety, as though he knew the answer from personal experience. The knowing didn't come as a surprise to Sadie so much as the vulnerability; Dum Dum Dugan never struck her as a vulnerable man. But she supposed that being trapped in a cellar beneath the caved-in ruins of a farmhouse was enough to expose the raw nerves of even the toughest men. And despite Dum Dum's devil-may-care persona Sadie knew he'd seen his fair share of horrors potent enough to give anyone nightmares.

"Yeah," she replied.

"You wanna share with the class?" He nudged her shoulder gently with his.

The details were things she'd only ever shared with Evelyn when her friend woke in the middle of the night to hear Sadie calling out in her sleep. Suffering in silence was a personal choice but she'd rather do that than have any of the men she served with think less of her because she showed too much emotion or revealed too many weak spots. She hunched over and tried to consider what she would even tell Dum Dum about the recurring horror show that played in her mind so often.

"For me it's the mortars," he announced, reading her hesitance like an open book. "That and storming the beach in Salerno. I see the guys from my squad that I lost. When you sign up for this shitshow nobody tells you that it's not just gunshots. One second I'm running up an endless beach with my buddies and the next I look back and they're blown to pieces. I can still remember their faces. I don't think I'll ever forget them."

Sadie rubbed her thumb over her father's wedding ring. "I see Betty all the time," she admitted at last.

"She was your other friend in the 80th, right?"

Sadie unbuttoned one of her shirt pockets and withdrew a few pictures. She rifled through them until she produced one of her with Evelyn and Betty. "We met the first day of nursing school and then I dragged them to war. She died the night the 80th was bombed, right in front of Evelyn and me. One second she was there and the next she was just," Sadie swallowed hard, "gone. I have nightmares about that moment. Sometimes it's just Betty but some nights she's there with my mother or Evelyn or Bucky, even my father, God rest his soul."

In the narrow flashlight beam, Dum Dum examined the photograph, taken before the war, back when all three women were doe-eyed and utterly ignorant of what fates awaited them. Betty's gorgeous smile lit up her entire face and the black and white photograph turned her golden blonde curls a becoming shade of silver.

"I'm sorry about Betty," he said, drawing a thumb over Betty's shining face.

"I'm sorry about the men in your squad."

"For what it's worth, I think it's good that we're not okay. I'd be worried if you could stomach all of this and not feel it," said Dum Dum when he handed the picture back.

A dry laugh escaped her lips. "And here men didn't want nurses joining up because they thought we'd be too emotional."

"Fuck 'em, " added Dum Dum. "They don't know jack shit about what it takes to survive this war."

"No, I guess they don't," she replied, turning her face down to Doc Holmes. He let out a low moan in his sleep. Sadie touched his forehead. "Well, he's not running a fever so that's good."

A wave of inadequacy welled up in her chest while she brushed the hair from his forehead. Trapped in this dank prison, there was so little she could do for him. The laundry list of items she would need to remove the iron bar and save his life began and ended with a qualified surgeon. The sweat that poured down Doc Holmes's temples and built up on his face caused his glasses to slip. Surprised that the lenses even survived the blast, Sadie removed the wire frames and stowed them in her pocket.

Doc Holmes started to cough. "What's going on? Is he okay?"

Sadie shook her head. "The morphine's starting to wear off."

"Can't you give him more?" Dum Dum asked.

"We don't have that much," she whispered while she carded the sweat-soaked hair from the doctor's forehead. "And no clue when we're getting out of here. Every minute he can go without is better."

A single lantern sat in the center of the room, allowing Sadie to see only half of Dum Dum's face. The half she could see was entirely devoid of his usual mirth. Sadie always liked that Dum Dum could make the most of a bad situation. To see lines forming at the corners of his eyes and the downturn of the corners of his mouth unsettled her. His mustache twitched in disapproval as he took in the sight of her and of her patient.

"How's he really doing?" He asked.

Sadie pressed two fingers against the pulse point in Doc Holmes' neck. "Not well," she admitted in a small voice. "The longer he goes untreated the worse off he is. His bleeding has slowed down but I can't stop it completely. If he slips into shock I don't think there's anything I can do to save him."

Dum Dum sucked in a breath, hollowing his rounded cheeks. He blew out a slow, disappointed sigh. "Can't you just take that thing out of him? Won't that help?"

"I don't know what arteries or vessels the iron severed. If I take it out he'll very likely bleed to death. That iron is the only thing keeping him alive." Sadie's eyes skimmed down to the mangled iron sticking out of Doc Holmes' leg. The bandages partially securing the poker would need to be changed soon.

"That's not true," argued Dum Dum. "He's got you, too."

"I'm only a nurse," she replied.

Dum Dum snorted. "Sure, and as _just a_ nurse you've patched up all of us along with God knows how many other guys. When all the rest of us were goddamn statues you put your hand on a prisoner's throat trying to save his life." He reached out and took one of her hands, squeezing his thick fingers around hers. "You've seen shit that would send most grown men running for the hills but you're still upright and what makes you better than any of us is that after everything you've been through you're still trying to save lives."

The flush that swirled into her cheeks burned. "It's just my job."

"It's not and you know it. This," he gestured to their surroundings. "Is way outside of the job description. There's something special about you, Sadie. I can't describe it but I know whatever it is makes you just as strong as that damn shield Steve carries everywhere. You're made of vibranium and you're going to save Doc Holmes and God knows how many other people before this is all over."

Sadie sniffled and shook her head, wishing she could escape the glowing praise. Instead she hastily wiped the tears off her cheeks. "Stop it. You're going to make me cry."

"Don't do that," Dum Dum warned with a stern finger. "I'm no good with crying women."

A laugh bubbled up into her throat. She took his hand again and threaded their fingers together in solidarity. "I know it's bad to be relieved you fell off that truck, but I am. I'm so glad I'm not alone."

"Never," he promised. "Now tell me how I can help."

X X X

The clouds broke sometime during the night. Bucky watched from his spot in his foxhole as the mood emerged from the cover. Shafts of silver light broke through the trees drying out mud in their foxhole that had already coated parts of Bucky's uniform despite having a raincoat. While Gabe and Steve slumbered up against the walls, Bucky remained awake and lost in his thoughts.

While he considered how HYDRA knew they were coming and whether Dum Dum was giving Sadie too hard of a time, Bucky toyed with the Saint Christopher's medal on his dog tags. He'd rubbed his thumb on the backside of the medal so often that he'd worn it smooth and shiny. The little ritual gave him comfort through some of the worst times and missions he'd endured. He turned the medal over, letting the pad of his thumb move over the ridges that came together to create the face of Saint Christopher. Bucky knew he wouldn't wear his dog tags forever but he wanted to wear the medal for the rest of his life.

"She gave that to you, didn't she?"

Bucky arched an eyebrow in acknowledgement of Steve's voice but he didn't tear his eyes away from the medal. "Right before we took the town in Azzano. She gave it to me after I told her I didn't have anything from home."

Even now, Bucky could see her standing there in the assembly area smiling at him when he closed his fingers over the medal. To Bucky that moment felt like a lifetime ago, before Sadie kissed him in an exam tent, before all of their dates and dances, before every private moment they shared and secret exchanged, before either of them realized just how deeply they loved each other. That simple act was a starting point, giving Bucky the hint that just maybe Sadie felt something for him too. If he'd known then what he knew now Bucky was certain he would have kissed her right then and there, just to have even that much extra time with her.

Steve didn't immediately respond and instead watched Bucky toy with the medal while he collected his thoughts. "When I visited the 80th she gave me my tour of the hospital and I remember wondering what you'd make of her, way before I knew the two of you already had history."

A small smile pulled at Bucky's lips. "It took her about two seconds to realize I was full of shit the day we met at the NYPOE. She's seen right through me ever since."

"Are you gonna make up with her and make things right again?" Steve asked.

"I want to," Bucky replied, wishing he didn't sound quite so anxious. "We're supposed to talk it all through the first chance we get. I think both of us know we can't keep fighting like this but I still got no idea how we're going to fix it."

Steve frowned. A crease between his eyebrows formed while he mulled over the tangled mess of a situation. "Groveling usually helps."

Bucky snorted in low laughter. "Yeah, cause you're a real expert on women."

The ghost of a smile touched Steve's lips. "Nah, but I know you and I've never seen you like this. If you let her slip through your fingers you'll regret it forever."

That was the understatement of the century in Bucky's humble opinion. Regret didn't even approach how Bucky knew he would feel if he lost Sadie. He imagined a hole being punched through him, gaping and raw with edges that would sting anytime he saw even the smallest reminder of her. There was no version of his life he could see that didn't involve her whip-smart humor or the smile she reserved just for him. Losing Sadie on any level would be akin to losing one of his family members or losing Steve. She would leave behind a wound that would never really heal.

Even then, Bucky also knew that the fear of losing her wasn't enough of a reason to keep her. He wiped his face with one of his hands. If there was ever a moment to admit what he'd really been thinking now was the time and this was the person to admit it to. This was Steve for crying out loud.

"I don't know what to do," he said at last. "I don't want to let her go, but," his voice dropped off uncertainly.

"But?"

"But I'm so fucked up, Steve. Even if I do give up on Zola it's not going to be enough. I think no matter what I do I'm never going to be completely okay and I don't want her to resent me for not being the man she deserves, for not getting better."

For a moment, Bucky thought Steve was gathering himself to give a full-blown lecture. Instead Steve rolled his eyes and delivered a short, but simple reply.

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard."

"What? No it's not!"

"Yes, it is," Steve argued doggedly. "When are you going to get it through your thick skull that Sadie is more than capable of making up her own mind? More to the point she's not asking you to be one-hundred percent again. And she never will."

"You don't know that."

"Think about it, Buck. She's one of the few women in the world who actually knows what you've been through. This is a woman who saw her best friend killed in front of her. Do you really think she's not carrying that grief around all the time?" Steve drew his knees up and rest his forearms against them. He stared past his joined hands mind drifting off to another place, somewhere deep in his own mind. "When Colonel Phillips told me you were dead I blew up an entire HYDRA base just to find you but Sadie was forced to watch. She's never going to get over that and that's how I know she'd never ask the same from you."

Bucky dug his nail into the bed of his opposite thumb, unsettling some of the dirt embedded there. "Yeah," he said through a humorless chuckle. "She's a hell of a lot better at hiding it than I am."

"That's because she's a woman," reasoned Steve. "And she probably doesn't want to show it in front of a bunch of men."

For a long time Bucky chewed over Steve's words. He continued to dig away at his fingernails until most of the dirt was gone. For all of Steve's inability to actually talk to women he still doled out eye-opening insights, seeing aspects of Sadie that Bucky hadn't really considered. He couldn't remember the last time Sadie mentioned Betty or when they actually talked about any of her experiences. So much of their strife surrounded his suffering that she often fell to the wayside. Evelyn was right, he realized with a hard pang of guilt, he loved Sadie but he didn't appreciate her. He'd never appreciated how much of herself she gave him. He loved her but there was so much he didn't know. There was so much he still wanted to know.

"I really fucked this up, didn't I?"

Steve's lips drew into a small, knowing smile. "Took you long enough. She's not asking you to give up on finding Zola or to be the perfect man. She just wants exactly what I want from you too. To choose a life over revenge."

Bucky's jaw dropped. "You couldn't have told me all this earlier?"

A smug, too smart for his own good look came to Steve's face. He raised his eyebrows humorously but kept his gaze on his hands. "I was kinda hoping you'd figure it out on your own."

At the same time both men snorted with laughter. "Come on, Rogers. We both know I'm not that smart."

"Yeah, should've known better. You're not the sharpest knife in the block."

"Says the guy who let strangers experiment on him." Steve coughed over his laugh and glanced at Gabe who remained dead to the world. Bucky grinned up at the sky. His head fell against the side of the foxhole with a gentle thud. A cool breeze ruffled the leaves clinging to the trees.

"I know that what I did was probably really stupid at the time," Steve admitted at last.

"Probably? Try definitely."

"I was so desperate to join up and serve my country but I didn't think about the consequences long-term. And now I'm stuck with this life. Even after the war ends, what good am I except as a soldier? Sometimes I wish I hadn't done it, to be honest because at least then I had options for a different life."

Bucky raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't expected such a candid admission. "I thought you liked being Captain America."

"I do," Steve promised. "But then I look at you and realize that you have options. Buck, you can have whatever life you want for yourself." Bucky started to wave him off but Steve cut him off. "I'm serious, you've got so many options you haven't even begun to see yet. And what's more is that you can get out."

"And leave you behind to fight the good fight? No way," Bucky argued and Steve nodded.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. I'm stuck with this life but you're not. Get out of it as soon as possible. I mean it, Bucky. When the war ends get out and go home. Go back to your family and use your G.I. bill and go to college to study whatever you want so you can get a good job. Marry Sadie and start a family with her."

Bucky closed his eyes. An image bloomed in the darkness behind his eyelids, the kind of picture he never imagined before. He'd never given much thought to what his life would really look like after the war. Once he met Sadie he knew she would be in the picture but now he saw the whole panorama. There was a house filled to the brim with the unusual pieces they'd collected during the war and walls littered with family pictures. He imagined a front door that hardly ever shut for the revolving assortment of friends that came and went. Unbidden to him, a smile tugged at Bucky's lips because he could hear the chaos perfectly in his head, of laughter and a sweet southern lilt that tied the whole picture together. Bucky could see Sadie so clearly kneeling down to catch a toddler than ran right into her loving arms. He could easily picture building a life with her, a life he wanted more than anything.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he nodded and Steve smiled in confusion. "You got everything out of order."

Steve chuckled, as though he already knew what Bucky was going to say when he asked the question, "Well how's it supposed to go then?"

"Marrying Sadie tops the list," he said and grinned when Steve clapped him on the shoulder. "She's way out of my league and I need to marry her before she realizes what a terrible mistake she's made."

Steve's laughter echoed through the base camp. "If she hasn't figured that out by now I think you're safe, Buck. But it's always better to be safe than sorry."

Bucky put the Saint Christopher's medal back beneath his shirt. He shifted his shoulders, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Tomorrow morning would come faster if he slept. Blood thrummed pleasantly through his body, coming from his calm heart and reassured mind. Something better than the drive for revenge started to grow in his chest, expanding the more he thought about it. Bucky still wanted to catch Zola but he could relegate that to the back burner. A new plan formed in his mind. Steve's words echoed in his head.

 _Get out and start your life._

That was exactly what Bucky planned to do.

X X X

The dial on Sadie's watch read one o'clock. Even in the short period of time she'd spent trapped underground, Sadie lost all sense of day and night. Darkness encroached on the circle of light cast by Dum Dum's flashlight, put to use after hers unceremoniously died. Whether it was one in the morning or the afternoon Sadie's routine remained as it had for the past ten hours. She'd checked Doc Holmes' vitals every hour on the hour, so often that she hadn't bothered to remove the stethoscope from her neck. From her steadfast place at his side, she reached for his wrist and took his pulse.

Thready was a charitable description for the thrum. Sadie checked the point at his neck and found a similar, but unsurprising result. The painful truth was that Doc Holmes' was going downhill and fast. She listened to his stilted breathing, checked his pupils and calmed him when he shifted and moaned in pain. When she finished her exam she placed her palm on his chest and felt out for his heartbeat, moving with the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Doc Holmes tripped over a breath and coughed hard.

"Easy, Doc, take it easy," she counseled. But he continued to cough, his back and chest rising up from the floor in convulsions. Blood touched the corners of his mouth. When his eyes fluttered opened they rolled around, searching for focus until he found her face blooming out of the darkness. "Come on, Ian. Breathe through it."

"I can't," he wheezed. The dark circles beneath his eyes were practically bruises now, sinking so deep that Sadie could make out his bone structure. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his upper lip before rolling down and soaking his hair through. For such a substantial man, he appeared a shadow of himself now, fading into the nothing as though the darkness would reach out and take him from her at a moment's notice. Sadie shuddered and wrestled with her fear so she could comfort him. Even in the thick of his pain Doc Holmes saw right through her. He rest a trembling hand atop hers, pinning against his cold shirt.

"I'm going to get you through this," she swore.

His bloody lips tugged into a wan smile. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," she argued. "I promised I'd get you out of here alive and that's what I'm going to do. Whether you like it or not."

She loathed him for laughing in that moment, for expending what precious little was left of his energy on teasing her. "God help any person who gets in your way, Nurse Reid. If all soldiers were like you we'd have won the war six months ago."

"Don't get smart with me now," she warned and reached for her spare shirt that she'd been using to mop up the sweat from his face. "How is your pain?"

"I don't feel much of anything," he replied and settled his head deeper into the pack beneath it. "Except cold."

This admission, in turn, froze the blood in Sadie's veins. She felt his forehead again. The thin façade of her composure shattered. Turning away so Doc Holmes wouldn't see her face collapse, she bit the inside of her mouth to force her tears back down. "Sadie?"

Dum Dum was awake now. He lumbered to her side. "As I said," persisted Doc Holmes in a shaky voice, "it's okay. I know you did everything you could. You can let me go."

"NO!" She snapped but Doc Holmes continued to ramble on, slipping into delirium.

"Don't blame yourself. Just promise—promise me you'll tell Evelyn," he coughed, "tell Evelyn that I," but he never finished his thought. Doc Holmes' head slipped to the side and he passed out, his chest lumbering for breath, struggling to pump his thin blood.

Sadie covered her face with her hand.

"What do we do next?" Dum Dum asked, his gaze locked onto the doctor's body.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I can give him enough morphine to make him comfortable. That might be all I can do at this point, it might be the most humane thing."

"To let him bleed to death?"

"To let him die with dignity and in peace," she replied in a broken voice.

Dum Dum shook his head. "Nope, that's not an option. We're not going to let him die, not without fighting until the bitter end. So get up and take a minute, okay?"

Knowing that Dum Dum was likely to drag her away from her patient, Sadie did as he instructed. Her knees ached as she struggled to her feet. The parts of her body impacted by the blast throbbed as she walked to the other side of the room, she suspected that she carried a fresh set of bruises to accompany the gash on her forehead. The cellar wasn't large enough for her muscles to loosen up much but she felt marginally less stiff by the time she reached the far wall. Away from the flashlight and her companions she could finally hear how ragged her breath had become and she could feel the unholy ache in her head where she'd hit it. Now that she could focus on herself for even a minute, she realized she probably had a concussion and that she wasn't in much better shape that Dum Dum and he was still nursing his dislocated elbow.

She rest a forearm on the wall and she placed her forehead against it. On reflex she reached for her silver chain but instead of parsing out her father's wedding ring she fingered the songbird charm. At long last, the first tears splashed onto her cheeks. The injustice of her situation welled up in her mouth, as bitter as the adrenaline that fueled her through most of the war. Was this really how her friend Ian Holmes was going to die? Wounded and terrified in a filthy cellar? After everything he'd done for her and after every life he'd saved? Sadie sniffled but didn't bother to wipe away the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks.

Dum Dum had called her as strong as Steve's shield but she felt a far cry from strong. She felt as broken as the boards and bricks that now blocked her exit. Blown apart by a seemingly endless barrage of misery. First her father and then the shock of watching so many soldiers die only to watch Betty vaporized in front of her. Sadie endured the cries of soldiers begging for their mothers, she'd felt the hot spray of Corporal Meyers' blood on her face and lived for three weeks thinking Bucky was dead. There were guards who killed themselves in front of her and soldiers who tried to kill her only to survive to have to watch Gutierrez die before her eyes. Was she now doomed to watch Ian succumb to the same fate and at her hands? Would Steve and Bucky dig them out only to discover at least one body if not more?

The thought was enough to irreparably break her. She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the cracking sob that escaped her lips. Balling up her fist she beat it against the wall so hard that dust loosened from the rafters and fell on top of her head. There was no way, she told herself even as the waves of her grief threatened to drag her under. Sadie would be damned before she let the others find their bodies. There had to be something she could do to save Ian, something that would buy enough time until the unit rescued them.

"Come on, Sade, think," she said under her breath.

In the midst of her thoughts, she rocked her body back and forth to warm up her stiff muscles and get her blood circulating. Her dog tags slipped free of her shirt and fell against her hand. Sadie let go of the songbird charm to rub her thumb over the raised lettering, conveying all of the information the army deemed necessary. Name, serial number, religion, and even her blood type were all there in the likely worst case scenario.

Sadie's lips parted in soft surprise. Pulling away from the wall, she clutched her tags so hard she nearly cut into her hand. "Blood type," she whispered before whipping around. "Dum Dum, check his tags. What's his blood type?"

"A Positive, why?"

"Thank God." In a manner of two steps she slipped into nurse mode. "I'm O Positive, which means I can give him a direct transfusion, but I'm going to need your help."

She dropped to her knees at the pile of supplies they'd managed to save and started rummaging through the medical gear. "Are you sure it's going to help?"

Sadie pried open the small crate containing what remained of the plasma kit. The bottle holding the dried plasma shattered in the blast but the second bottle survived. With some work she managed to remove the cap and Dum Dum stared in surprise when she dumped the liquid onto the floor. "Come on, don't just stand there. There's a needle and some IV tubing somewhere in these supplies."

Dum Dum got to work and together they managed to rig a crude system. A set of old crates stood in the far corner of the cellar and Sadie pushed them together then set the bottle on the floor.

"Sade, is this a good idea?"

"This is all I've got." The old song and dance came to her easily. Tourniquet, swab, find a vein, and stick all just backwards. "It's strange doing this to myself."

"You know, you're not answering my question. Is this dangerous? I mean, you don't just do this directly all the time do you?"

"No, there's a chance that Ian's body will reject the transfusion," she muttered, swabbing her arm. With the tourniquet tied tight, she could see the vein popping out in her elbow.

"So, there's a chance you'll kill him?"

"Yes, but I know he's going to die if I don't try," she explained before sliding the needle into her vein. When she released the tourniquet she let her arm fall and watched as her blood pushed through the tube and started filtering into the bottle.

Dum Dum sat next to her on the crates. "And what about you?"

Sadie closed her eyes and let her head fall onto his shoulder. "You said it yourself, I can't give up on the Doc. Besides, I know what I'm doing. I'll be fine."

"Doc's right, you say that way too much."

Her lips tugged into a weak smile. "Just make sure none of the equipment touches the floor. I might have to do this again."

He started, nearly upending her onto the floor. "Over my dead body, Sade. You do this more than once you probably will kill yourself and I am not having that on my conscience."

"You're just too chicken to tell Bucky," she teased.

Sadie didn't need to look at Dum Dum to know he was frowning. "Forget Bucky, it's Evelyn I'm afraid of."

Her soft laughter filled the room. Across the way, she could just make out Doc Holmes' chest rising and falling. "I don't blame you for that. We should all be afraid of how she's going to take all of this when we get out."

"At last, a little optimism," he mumbled and moved to put his arm around her shoulder, holding up her weight as she slumped against him. "We're gonna get out of this. If there's one thing I know for sure it's that Captain Rogers won't leave a man behind and Bucky'll probably rip this place apart himself to find you so I like our odds."

Sadie thought about the songbird charm resting against her breast and the man who gave it to her. There was no part of her that doubted they would be found. The only question was what state they would be in.

She and Dum Dum fell into comfortable silence until at last the bottle was full. The needle pinched her skin when she pulled it out and she let Dum Dum press gauze against the needle hole to stymy the bleeding. Together they moved across the room, Dum Dum supporting her as she stumbled to Doc Holmes. Sadie felt light headed and dizzy from the blood loss but she forced herself to reach for clarity enough to prep Doc Holmes' arm.

"You're going to be fine, Ian," she promised her friend. She wiped the needle clean with an antiseptic pad and waited for it to dry. "This isn't the most sanitary method but it's going to have to do. Because like hell I'm going to pass notes to Evelyn on your behalf. You can tell her you love her yourself."

Sadie isolated a vein and slipped the dry needle into it. Turning to Dum Dum, she upturned the bottle of her blood and handed it to him. "Hold the bottle up as long as you can. When you get tired come get me. I'm going to lay down for a few minutes."

Dum Dum nodded and jerked his head towards the crates. "Get some sleep, okay?"

Sadie stumbled back to the crates with her jacket in hand. She stayed awake long enough to roll it up and lay down. Sleep came to her within minutes.

X X X

Bucky crawled out of the foxhole just before daybreak. His stomach growled while he fell in line with Steve and Gabe. But instead of digging into a ration or whatever odds and ends he stored in his bag, Bucky carried his rifle across his front, finger resting along the side of the trigger. Every step he took was careful, avoiding downed branches and larger twigs. Though Bucky didn't expect any danger on the trek to the rendezvous point he didn't want to take any chances. Gabe and Steve felt the same way, if the rifle in Gabe's hands and Steve's raised shield were any indication.

Mist slipped between the tree trunks helping provide cover as they moved forward. Yesterday's rain continued to provide gifts as the damp leaves muffled their footsteps. Bucky didn't really enjoy the bleak grey morning as it dawned, the cool snap in the air caused old injuries to ache and he preferred dry, crisp air for shooting if he had to choose. Still, even with the abysmal weather, Bucky couldn't help but feel the new spring in his step.

The previous night's conversation with Steve opened a new door in Bucky's mind. Through that door he could see a light that granted him the escape he'd been so desperately seeking. Walking away from the relentless, blind pursuit of Arnim Zola wouldn't be easy but something better waited for him on the other side. While he trudged onward he considered the succinct point Steve put on it. Choosing a life over revenge made sense of a bad situation and put the ultimatum Sadie gave him into sharp perspective, washing away his own gross misconception of her plea.

Making the choice to go home and start his life took him back to a different time, to the man he'd been at the NYPOE. Back then his deepest fears were rooted in whether he would even live to make it home and the terror that his headstrong, occasionally idiotic best friend would get himself killed just to prove a point. Before shipping out, Bucky's sole goal had been to survive the war and go home to start his life.

Why should that goal have to change?

In fact, going home and beginning a new chapter made even more sense than it ever did before. Getting on with his life felt like the ultimate 'fuck you' to Arnim Zola more than a bullet between the eyes ever could be. Bucky clawed his way through hell on earth to get to this point and somewhere along the way he ended up fighting side by side with Steve. He'd made friendships that would last his entire life in the men in the Howling Commandos. And the beautiful, charm-immune nurse from the POE turned out to be the love of his life. There was a lot to live for and the spring in his step only grew the more he thought about the people he'd met that changed his life for the better and how much good was still to come.

"We should be close to the meet up point," Gabe mumbled just loud enough for Bucky and Steve to hear.

Bucky zeroed back in on reality, feeling a renewed thrill just knowing he would see Sadie soon. Readjusting his grip on his rifle, he fell into step with Steve who halted at the edge of the trees. A small gap in the trees revealed a large trunk on the forest floor, partially hollowed out. Through the fog, Bucky couldn't make out much and certainly not the arrival of his friends. Time ticked on but Steve insisted they wait a little longer and a little longer but to no avail. Ten o'clock came and went with no sign of Falsworth and the others.

Steve made the ultimate decision to keep moving with the hope that Falsworth and the others decided to regroup with the aide team at the farm house. And so they marched, buckling down for the seven miles to the house that stood on the edge of the woods just outside of town. Bucky took the opportunity to eat while he marched and, when he was assured that no HYDRA goons were going to jump him, relaxed enough to enjoy the morning. The three New York boys took advantage of the absence of their comrades and reminisced about the city and swapped recommendations and stories.

Weak rays of sun tried to break through the steadily lightening clouds, warming Bucky's face while he laughed at a tale Gabe spun about getting kicked out of a jazz club in Harlem before running for his life from the doorman.

"Reminds me of the time Bucky and me almost got thrown out of this old Irish joint around the corner from my old place."

"What is this 'we' bullshit? You're the one who told the biggest guy in there to get his head out of his ass."

"What was I supposed to do?" Steve challenged through his laugh. "He was harassing the waitress. Someone had to stand up for her."

Bucky snorted in laughter. "You coulda tried a better way to do it." Rolling his eyes to Gabe he hitched his rifle higher up his shoulder. "Captain dumbass over there went up, tapped this guy on the shoulder and told him to mind his damn manners."

"Back when you were?" Gabe couldn't quite find the right way to phrase his question.

"A shrimp?" Bucky supplied. "Yeah, he's lucky we made it out of there alive."

"You're just mad 'cause you were trying to weasel a date out of the blonde at the bar," Steve argued and Bucky shrugged, not denying his motives at the time.

"I was this close, too," he joked, holding his thumb and forefinger close together.

"Bullshit you were!" Steve exclaimed.

Bucky opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out. They came to the edge of the trees and every last thought dropped out of his body along with his heart and stomach. Falsworth and Dernier sat on the ground, heads in their hands. Morita stood a few feet away, his hands hanging limply at his sides.

"Oh my God." Steve's voice reached Bucky just before a high-pitched ringing blocked out everything else.

The troop truck sat upturned, a half twisted and charred wreck. Shards of glass and debris from the impact site littered the ground, the radius of damage bleeding into the wreckage that filled Bucky's entire field of vision. The brick and wood farmhouse was gone and in its place a mountain of rubble and destruction. Splintered wood beams stuck up from the mess and bricks slumped down to the ground, obscuring the front of the house. Only part of the back still stood, including a fraction of the room where Bucky promised Sadie they would talk when he got back.

His eyes grew wider as he scanned the area only to see nobody else. Dum Dum wasn't puffing away at a cigar. Doc Holmes wasn't fussing over his constant patients. Gutierrez wasn't fiddling with the radio.

But more than that, more than anything or anyone else, Sadie was nowhere to be seen.

"Bucky. Bucky can you hear me?" Steve tried to get his attention, grasping his shoulder and shaking it hard.

The ringing in Bucky's ears reached a new zenith because instead of finding Sadie joking with Dum Dum all he saw was a lump of canvas pulled from the remains of the troop truck. A wave of nausea swept over Bucky and the K-ration he'd wolfed down earlier that morning threatened to come up in full force. The lump was roughly the size and shape of a human body.

Morita and Falsworth were on their feet in a split second, sprinting towards them. The looks on their faces said it all. Bucky's knees buckled. His eyes stayed glued to the hidden body and his world imploded.

 **A/N: So, there's that. The next chapter picks up immediately where we leave off and I swear I'm about to serve of a nice reprieve from the doom and gloom. The good news is that a massive chunk of the next chapter is already written, too!**

 **Hate me? Love me? Want me to suffer for my cruelty? Little bit of it all? I totally get that and I would love, love, love to read your feedback or, at the very least, the laundry list of things you'd like to throw at me. Much love – Kappa.**


	28. All That is Good and Loving

**A/N: Y'all, this chapter is massive. But I had in my mind exactly where I wanted it to end and I completely refused to compromise so, you get this beast as a result. That's really all I can say about that.**

 **Thank you sososo much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews. The love y'all have shown for this little (Kappa says as the word count breaks 250K) story blows my mind. I love writing these characters and this world and all the love keeps me motivated to reach the finish line. Extra thanks to Mopargirl1 who helped me with logistics and to the splendid Stencil Your Heart, my Taylor Swift-loving partner in character torture crime.**

 **Warnings for language…but are you really surprised?**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own Cap. If I did there'd be ohso much more Bucky.**

 **Chapter 28 – All that is Good and Loving**

Time tended to move in funny ways during the war. Minutes, days and hours flew by in leaps and bounds during the quiet periods of downtime. The time went by in the blink of an eye as the clock ran up to major maneuvers. Bucky remembered the rush leading up to the invasion at Salerno or the way battles were over in the blink of an eye. At other times the minutes crawled by. Each day he spent locked up as a prisoner felt like a life time. There were moments he wanted to end in a hurry and those he wanted to last forever. Bucky wanted to spend an eternity playing darts with Steve and howling at the moon with his friends. He wanted an infinite number of seconds to spend wrapped around Sadie Reid, listening to her sweet and slow accent.

But for all the strange ways of time, the milliseconds never moved slower than they did when Bucky's eyes fell on the shrouded body outside of the destroyed farmhouse. Each pounding beat of his heart reverberated deep into his bones. His head swam for clarity while he felt every second like a punch in the gut. Steve grasped his shoulder tight, surveying the scene slack-jawed in horror.

"Who is that?" Bucky's voice sounded unearthly, as though he were speaking outside of his own body. "Steve, who is that?"

One foot and then the other uprooted from the ground and he started to go forward, to wrench the canvas back and confirm his worst fears. Two solid bodies intercepted him. Falsworth and Morita both shoved their hands against his chest and forced him back.

"Bucky, calm down," Falsworth commanded but Bucky was beyond reasoning.

"Is that Sadie? Christ, is it her?" Bucky persisted.

Falsworth and Morita dug their heels into the ground to stop Bucky from charging forward. "It's not her!" Falsworth yelled, forcing his voice to break through the haze of panic that swelled up in Bucky's chest and clouded everything. "It's Gutierrez, not Sadie!"

Later, Bucky would take the time to grieve the loss of a friend but for now it was all he could do to hold himself together at the news. Steve once again took Bucky's shoulder and pulled him back. "Where is she?"

Any relief Bucky received in learning that Sadie wasn't lying beneath the sheet was short-lived. Falsworth and Morita glanced at each other in open hesitance. Steve squeezed Bucky's shoulder and spoke to him in a low voice. "Maybe you should take a short walk or something, clear your head?"

"Fuck no," Bucky shot back immediately. "I need to know the truth."

Falsworth shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back. The veins in his temples popped out from the strain of the predicament. "We checked the perimeter and there weren't any foot prints or tire treads anywhere."

"So they didn't leave the area?" Steve surmised and Falsworth swallowed hard before he nodded.

"Which means there's really only one other place they could be."

Every pair of eyes returned to the wreckage. Bucky's blood turned to stone. "Do we know if they're alive?"

Steve's question burned through Bucky's chest. Sadie was in that mess, buried and he had no idea if she was alive or dead or what condition she was in at all. "We're not sure. There's a cellar in the house but who knows if they made it down there in time. Even if they did, it's possible that the blast caused a collapse that buried them."

Bucky wiped his face with his hands. Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck and his forehead. The words 'buried alive' flashed behind his eyes every time he blinked. Bile rose up in his throat and he shook his head, backing away.

"No," he said forcefully.

"Bucky?" Gabe piped up, now watching Bucky instead of contemplating the possible outcome of the situation.

The food in Bucky's stomach came up. He had just enough time to turn away and stagger back to the trees before he threw up. Under any other circumstance the shame of losing his stomach would be mortifying, but he couldn't have cared less and nobody blamed him. Gabe retreated to his side and gave him a few sharp pats on the back. Steve peeled his mask off and he sighed.

"We should get to work, then. If they made it down to the cellar chances are they're still alive and I'm not leaving until we find them, no matter the outcome." Bucky still leaned heavily against the tree when Steve came to his side. He bent his head down so only Bucky could hear him when he spoke. "Take some time if you need it, nobody's gonna blame you."

Whether it was the clarity that came with being violently ill or the fresh kick of adrenaline that followed, Bucky didn't know and he didn't care. He straightened up and shook his head. "I don't need any time."

"Are you sure? If you want to step away, what I'm saying is that we don't know what we're going to find."

Bucky's empty stomach twisted in a hard knot. Steve wouldn't say exactly what he meant but he'd said enough for Bucky to read between the lines. His best friend didn't want him to be there if the worst happened, if they found bodies. The thought was enough to strike him down where he stood. Raising his chin, he met Steve's empathetic eyes because he was already three steps ahead, already thinking about the worst case scenario - Dum Dum, Doc Holmes, and Sadie not just dead but brutally so. Flashes of blood and broken bones assaulted Bucky when he blinked. Steve asked him a silent question: Was Bucky ready to see the worst? Was he ready to see Sadie in pieces?

The answer, no matter how much it hurt, was unequivocal. "I'll tear the goddamn wreck apart myself if I have to."

Without waiting for Steve or anyone else, he marched towards the remains of the farmhouse, stopping long enough to drop his rifle next to Falsworth's. He reached for the first piece of debris he could and hauled it out of his way. One by one the rest of the unit joined him until they were working together to shift the rubble as quickly as possible. The entire time Bucky worked, he kept his mind focused on one thought - he couldn't lose Sadie, not now and not like this. She was alive.

She had to be alive.

X X X

Bucky lost track of the hours; with the grey clouds obscuring the sun, it was difficult to follow them. All Bucky really knew was that they'd been working far too long for the progress they'd made. Even with Steve moving the larger pieces of brick wall or support beams, clearing away the two-story house was a Herculean effort for a six-man team. Early on, Falsworth pointed out that finding the entrance to the cellar would be difficult and tedious. The last thing the team needed was a man falling through a hole and injuring himself. Their medical supplies were meager at best and had to be reserved for any survivors.

Whether the others thought that Sadie, Doc, and Dum Dum survived was immaterial to Bucky. They could lose hope and resign themselves to a recovery mission instead of a rescue but he refused to see it that way. Giving up on Sadie wasn't an option. Opening himself up to the possibility of a lifetime without her wasn't an option. And so Bucky threw himself into the labor, shedding his blue coat when sweat started pouring down his back and stopping long enough to swallow a mouthful of water or pull splinters from his hands. Bucky wasn't even surprised when his body didn't tire much after hours of shifting away rubble and helping Steve move plywood, tile, and shattered remains of furniture out of the way. For the first time since his ordeal in Azzano, Bucky was glad for the change.

Through it all, Steve kept an annoyingly close eye on Bucky. He managed to keep the worst of his sentiment and sympathy to himself, knowing better than anyone that Bucky wasn't ready to hear any of it. Steve maintained Bucky's sense of optimism, choosing to believe that his friends were alive because the alternative was just too much to bear. Losing four members of his unit in one go wouldn't just be awful; it would bar belief. Still, Bucky noticed Steve's glance shifting to him more and more as the afternoon waned and darkness began to creep up on the unit. He waited until the opportune time to strike, when he was helping Bucky carry a cumbersome chunk of the heavy scrubbed table to the pile the unit started some time earlier.

"We should think about digging in for the night," said Steve just after they tossed the table away, listening to it splinter and crack the other debris beneath it.

"We should keep going as long as we can," argued Bucky. He turned to go back to the house when Steve locked a hand on his bicep.

"Bucky," there was no hiding the warning in his voice and Bucky suspected Steve meant for him to hear it. That same warning flashed in Steve's eyes, his brows drawing closer together and revealing a line between them. "Not even all the adrenaline in the world can keep you going all night. You need to get a few hours of sleep, at least until first light."

"Get all the sleep you want. I'll set up a few lanterns and keep going."

Bucky tried to shrug Steve's hand off but the fingers locked down in a vice grip that actually hurt. "You're no good to her if you're half-dead."

"What good am I to her at all if I don't do this?' Bucky challenged. His mind strayed to the previous two weeks, to the stretches of stony silence, his indecision, and the way her face fell every time he rebuffed her. The only hope at all he'd given her were a handful of words exchanged before he left and what if that was it? What if his last concrete memories of Sadie were leaving her behind in a dilapidated farmhouse after wasting so much time resenting her for making perfect sense?

While Bucky tried to wrangle his restless emotions back into shape, Steve fought his own internal war. He alone of all of Bucky's friends knew just how remarkable Bucky's devotion to Sadie truly was. Steve alone had the closest idea of how devastated if Bucky lost Sadie. He loosened his grip and switched gears, lowering his voice and imploring him from the angle of his best friend and not commanding officer.

Steve put his hands on his hips and stared out over the tree line to the steadily darkening sky. "Will you at least sit down and eat something? After that we'll keep going, I promise."

That was a compromise Bucky could live with. "Yeah. I can do that."

Morita gladly took a break from work to set up the small camp stove and got to work on a truly depressing dinner. Bucky kept his promise to Steve and sat down for ten minutes to wolf down his dinner. More than once he considered that under any other normal circumstance he'd laugh himself hoarse at Steve's overbearing mother hen routine. But as he stared at the wreckage he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever find anything funny again. Food eaten and a few extra minutes for digestion he struggled to his feet. He would rather drop dead than admit that just maybe Steve was right. His joints groaned and his muscles seized up after just a few minutes.

Steve said nothing, but he joined Bucky. If any of the others thought that Bucky's behavior was bordering on insane they said nothing. Falsworth set up the lanterns and in the narrow circles of light, every last man continued the slog to unearth the entrance to the cellar. The sight of their dedication not only to the lost members of their unit but also to Bucky struck a chord deep within him. When the pitch-black darkness encircled them, Bucky started to feel his forced optimism wane. He started to work out how he could even begin to prepare himself for the worst. The images from his worst nightmares and hallucinations came back to him.

He started to help lift part of a door when the partially exposed floorboards beneath his feet gave an almighty crack. At the same time Bucky and Gabe scrambled back onto solid ground.

"That can't be good," observed Gabe.

"I'm not surprised. With his much weight coming down on such old floors, it's a miracle the floor didn't cave into the cellar." Falsworth noted on Bucky's other side.

Bucky's stomach gave another almighty lurch. "We're just gonna have to be careful, that's all."

Falsworth opened his mouth to argue and Bucky's hackles rose. His curse-laden argument died in his throat when the high beams of headlights flooded the clearing along with the rumbling of engines. Instinct kicked in and all six men leapt into action. Bucky's hands closed over his rifle in record time and he raised it just as the first of three jeeps swung wide to come to a stop. Illuminated by the headlights, each jeep was olive drab and marked with familiar, heart-lifting insignia. Steve jogged to meet the American captain that jumped out of the first jeep.

"Captain Rogers! Looks like we're arriving right on time!" Steve shook hands with the man, slack-jawed. "I'm Captain Frank Hibbs, sixth infantry division. [CHECK & CHANGE THIS}."

"It's great to meet you Captain Hibbs, but how—"

"We got a distress call from Corporal Gutierrez, said part of your unit was under attack."

Bucky's eyes strayed to the mound of earth where they'd buried Gutierrez. The Corporal's dog tags were safely stored in one of Steve's pockets. "Uh, yeah," said Steve, dazed. "Our aide attachment. Looks like they got hit when the town did and we're pretty sure our surviving personnel are trapped in the cellar."

An entire crew of infantrymen got out of the other jeeps. Bucky glanced up in wonder to see an ambulance and a small troop carrier. Captain Hibbs and Steve walked over to the edge of the house to survey what they could in the darkness. "You're sure they're alive?"

"No," admitted Steve. "But I won't leave regardless."

Captain Hibbs nodded and held out his hand for a flashlight, which one of his non-coms handed to him. He and Steve walked the perimeter of the house in conversation while the captain surveyed the grounds. Someone smacked Bucky's arm with the back of his hand. "Who you got down there?"

Bucky and Gabe both turned their heads to see a mousy Second Lieutenant standing there, arms loosely crossed over his chest. "One of our guys, our surgeon, and one of our nurses."

The lieutenant's eyebrows flew up into his curly hair. "You got nurses travelling with you? Damn, that's lucky. I ain't properly seen a broad in weeks. She a looker?"

Bucky's blood boiled. Only Gabe's clever and quick intervention prevented Bucky from throwing a right hook to the lieutenant's jaw. "Who gives a damn what she looks like if she's good at her job?"

Bucky couldn't have said it better himself.

The lieutenant held up his hands in supplication when he realized he'd crossed a line. "Alright, alright, I can see it's a sensitive subject." Bucky picked up the New Jersey accent and rolled his eyes. In his wholly biased opinion, that explained everything. "Well, we're here to help get 'em out if we can."

Steve and the Captain returned shortly thereafter. The general consensus was to work by the headlights clearing away sections at a time towards the remains of the staircase where the most likely entrance to the cellar would be. From there it would be a matter of cutting and pulling up the floorboards to access the cellar. At Captain Hibbs insistence, the Commandos all retreated to get fresh water, more food and to rest while the fresh team got to work. Bucky reluctantly followed Steve to sit in the back of the troop truck. He meant to sit for just a short spell before going back to help but he passed out within minutes of resting his back and head against a support pole.

X X

Dum Dum roused Sadie from a particularly deep, pleasant dream. His large hands practically engulfed her shoulders when he gently shook her awake. A panicked note laced through his voice when he spoke to her, as though he feared she wouldn't wake up. Already they'd gone through this particular song and dance multiple times, so Sadie could check on her patient and herself before she curled up and fell asleep either next to Doc Holmes or back on the crates if she made it that far. The situation only got worse when she gave Doc Holmes a second, smaller transfusion over Dum Dum's vehement objections. She was careful to keep a close eye on the bottle as it filled, stopping herself when it was halfway full. Sadie didn't know for sure, she guessed she'd given Doc Holmes about a pint and a half of her blood. Though she didn't dare breathe a word to Dugan, she quietly allowed herself one more half pint as a last-ditch measure if things got really desperate. Any more than two pints and Sadie knew she was treading into dangerous water herself.

"C'mon, Sade," said Dum Dum as he rubbed his thumbs over her shoulders.

"What is it?" She mumbled, her words slurring together slightly. The pressure points on her right side hurt something awful from her sleeping position on the hard crates. Still, she felt more refreshed after what she suspected was a relatively short amount of time. .

"I think someone's trying to dig us out," he announced, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

Sadie scowled and let him help bear the full brunt of her weight as he lifted her to sit up. She started to ask him how he knew but shut her mouth when she heard the distant thumping and cracking. Dust loosened from the rafters though she couldn't hear the sound of voices and no light pierced through to her from the world above.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Sadie tried to focus on this new information through the haze of blood loss and the lurch of her stomach. "Do you think it's the rest of the Commandos?"

"It's gotta be, right?"

"God, I hope so," she muttered and held her hands up. In the waning light of their last lantern she could see them visibly tremble. Her entire body shook, in part from the cold that settled into her bones after giving up so much blood. Fighting a groan, she pushed herself to her feet and crossed the room to kneel woodenly next to Doc Holmes. He'd shifted his weight sometime during the night, resting partially on his side with the extra pack supporting his back. "How's he been?"

Dum Dum crouched down next to her. "More or less stable from what I can tell. I've been taking his vital signs like you taught me and he's only just now starting to decline."

"Good," she muttered, taking his pulse. "It's not as strong as I'd like but it will have to do. Hopefully our rescuers work fast."

"I'm guessing another round of morphine is out of the question? And you've got no other magic tricks up your sleeve?'

Sadie sighed and nodded. "I don't want to accidentally give him too much. The dosages will be all wrong now that his blood levels aren't stable. I could give him another transfusion but I doubt it'd do much good right now."

"Over my dead body," he growled in a hard tone.

"It's not particularly high on my list of preferred things to do either." Dismissing her trembling hands, she continued with her examination and, satisfied that Doc Holmes wasn't going to slip away in the next hour or so, she relaxed. An arm came around her shoulder and Sadie immediately turned into Dum Dum with a pitiable noise of relief. "You're so warm."

She felt his chuckle reverberate through his chest and into hers. "I always ran a degree or two hot. You cold?"

"It's the blood loss. Low circulation and all that."

Dum Dum was clumsy with his dislocated elbow but he managed to work his jacket off his shoulders and he draped it over hers. Sadie grasped the lapels and pulled them in tight, inhaling the surprisingly sweet scent of cigar smoke and mint. "If we start yelling do you think they'll hear us?"

"I've already tried," said Dum Dum ruefully. "I actually started to worry when you didn't wake up but it didn't work. I think they're moving too much shit to hear us."

Sadie nodded and slowly pushed one arm and then the other though his jacket sleeves. His body heat lingered in the heavy fabric, seeping through her skin but not much further. The cold she felt started in her bones and set a shiver down her spine that she doubted would go away any time soon. She wished the jacket belonged to Bucky or better yet, that she was buried in his warm embrace. There wasn't much that Sadie wouldn't give up to press her face into his neck and bring her shoulders closer together when he folded her against him. Tears stung her eyes as she thought about falling asleep with him in the chapel when she felt more safe than she ever had in her life. At that moment she would just settle for hearing Bucky's voice so she could pick out the differences in their accents. Closing her eyes, she imagined the smooth way he said her name and the brush of his lips against her ear when they danced. The moments were so real to her she swore she could hear voices.

And then she realized she actually could hear voices. Dum Dum looked up at the ceiling at the same time she did, sparing one glance for her pale face. "Any idea who it is?"

"Captain! Captain! I think I've found it!" The muffled words were unfamiliar but the voice was American all the same that was enough to keep Sadie from reaching for the sole rifle in the cellar. Dum Dum lowered his pistol. He struggled to his feet and tread closer to the rubble.

"Stand back!"

Sadie raised her arms to cover her head when dust and flecks of splintered wood started to rain down on her. An ear-splitting crunch preceded a flood of grey light that blinded Sadie and Dum Dum. Both of them shielded their eyes. On instinct she knelt next to Doc Holmes, resting her hand on his chest. She felt the shuddering rise and fall beneath her palm.

"Hello? Anyone down there?"

Dum Dum lifted his head and turned back to Sadie with a mile-wide grin at the sound of Steve's clear and commanding voice. When Dum Dum replied he sounded more buoyant than Sadie had ever heard. "Nice of you to show up, Cap! Sade and I thought you'd forgotten about us."

X X X

Daylight washed over Bucky's face when he stirred. Someone distant called his name, the voice growing louder and louder until Gabe Jones finally succeeded in waking him. Sitting up, completely disoriented and stiff from sleeping so long upright, Bucky winced into the watery daylight. A colorful curse tumbled out of his mouth; how long had he been out?

"What's going on?"

"Just come and see, man!"

The excitement in Gabe's voice was more than enough reason to hope. Bucky followed his friend off the troop truck and across the open space. A large number of guys gathered around an opening in the exposed floor where a handful of guys were setting up some sort of rigging. Steve stood in the thick of it and when he saw Bucky his face split into a grin. Bucky's heart leapt into his throat and he pushed through the infantrymen to his best friend who shrugged an apologetic shoulder.

"I knew it was gonna be a while until we figured out how to get them topside so I let you sleep."

Bucky would worry about being angry at Steve later because any thought of it slipped right out of his mind when he looked down into the opening to the cellar. His heart exploded. Dum Dum and even the gravely injured Doc Holmes fizzled into nothing. His wide eyes fell on a pale, bandaged but perfectly alive and in one piece Sadie Reid. The world righted itself, dropping back onto its correct axis when she paused in her work to brush a lock of hair from her face and she raised her stormy eyes only to find him.

Her ghostly pale lips drew into a shaking smile that reached all parts of her face. Bucky recognized her smile as one she used solely for him. He wiped his face with a shaking hand, catching the few fresh tears before they had a chance to slip down his cheeks. A thousand words begged to be said, woven into declarations and promises that were best saved for a quiet moment and not in front of so many people. In the back of his mind he wondered what happened but that was also a question for another time. In that moment all that mattered was getting her out of the cellar and right into his arms where she belonged. He drank in every detail of her he could from far away, hoping she understood from just his silent expression that he loved her with everything he had and he would be damned before he let her go.

Something in the way she dropped her chin to hide her teary smile told Bucky she got the message loud and clear.

Much as he hated it, Bucky knew that their private moments would have to wait. There was a bigger matter at hand, one that required his full attention. Getting the trio out of the cellar was going to be no easy task. With Doc Holmes completely out of commission and Dum Dum still struggling with his elbow, the process would be a difficult one. The slide of rubble that took out the stairs was uneven and unstable but it was also holding up part of the ceiling of the cellar. Tampering with it could cause the whole rest of the house to come down. Eventually Captain Hibbs and Steve made the decision to lift each person out of the cellar. Using the rope that the infantry unit brought with it, a simple harness was fashioned and a second mechanism for Doc Holmes made from the mostly intact remains of a door.

While everyone got to work figuring out the best system to hold Dum Dum's considerable weight and to keep Doc Holmes steady and level, the medical team dropped food and fresh water down into the cellar for its occupants. Bucky rolled up his sleeves and joined in with the crew widening the hole it created to allow more room to lift Doc Holmes. The work, through grueling on his already tired body, had the sole perk of allowing him to keep Sadie in his sights the whole time. She stayed wholly devoted to her patient though every so often Bucky caught her gaze flicker to him as though assuring herself that he wasn't a figment of her imagination. The feet that separated them frustrated Bucky to no end. If he leaned over the edge of the floor she was less than two feet away from his fingertips. The maddening distance and the unnatural pallor of her skin spurred Bucky to work harder and faster, draining what little energy he'd gained through sleeping for a few hours.

But at last the opening in the floor was large enough and everyone was in place and ready. Steve walked around to the further widened hole in the floor. "Dum Dum, move out of the way."

Dum Dum took a few steps back.

Bucky held his breath when Steve dropped down to the bottom, landing on his feet as though he did stunts like that all the time. There were benefits to being enhanced, thought Bucky as he watched Steve give Sadie a brief embrace and patted Dum Dum's back.

"Alright, it's gonna be easy does it."

Bucky stood to the side with Falsworth, Dernier, and Gabe on the most stable part of the floor. The four of them were ready to intercept Doc Holmes as he came up and pull him to safety. Morita called out instructions to the infantry unit as they lowered the door, suspended by the rope until it touched down on the floor.

"Keep his leg as still and stable as possible," ordered Sadie as she and Dum Dum dragged the door over to Doc Holmes' body. While Steve took Doc Holmes by the shoulders, Sadie and Dum Dum worked together to get his legs. Bucky watched as they transferred him as carefully as possible onto the wooden slab. Despite their best efforts, Doc Holmes cried out in his sleep when Dum Dum jostled his leg.

But securing the good doctor to the door was the easy part. Lifting him up took an eternity with two teams of men pulling up the two separate ropes in a carefully coordinated dance to keep the doctor level. The closer he got to the surface the more Bucky could tell just how things were for Doc Holmes. A ghostly blue tinge touched his lips while his eyes pulsed erratically behind his closed eyelids. Bucky couldn't believe that Doc Holmes was even alive at all after two and a half days spend trapped underground. He chalked it all up to the extraordinary woman still trapped, though he couldn't help but wonder how Sadie pulled it off.

At last, Doc Holmes reached the floor boards. Bucky and Falsworth reached for the man's body, moving quickly to slide him into a firm grip. Two extra sets of hands then joined in and as one the commandos shifted him off the door, lifting him up and walking backwards as carefully as possible to the waiting litter. Almost as soon as he touched down the medical team sprang into action, rushing him to the waiting ambulance.

Bucky returned to the edge just in time to hear Sadie arguing with Dum Dum and Steve. "Sergeant Dugan this isn't the time for chivalry! You're injured far worse than I am and protocol says patients go first."

"Oh c'mon, Sade, I am not going to go up before you. You need to go next."

"No," she snapped. "What if the ropes break? Captain Rogers is going to have a much easier time getting me out than you if something goes wrong. Isn't that right, Sir?"

Sadie turned the full force of her steely gaze on Steve. Bucky's lips tugged downward. Not even Steve Rogers was immune to her terrifying glare. His foot slid back a step in defeat which he announced with a resigned sigh. "Nurse Reid is right. You should go up first, followed by Sadie and then me."

Dum Dum couldn't very well ignore a direct command, no matter how much he wished he could. The door used to lift Doc Holmes was replaced by a crude harness that barely fit around Dum Dum. Bucky heard him grumbling all the way up until he reached the surface where he was pulled to safety by his comrades.

Finally, Sadie stepped up to strap herself into the harness. Where the straps barely went around Dum Dum, Bucky was terrified she would slip right through with no warning. He wanted to simultaneously be the one to pull the ropes bringing her up and pull her to safety, just so he knew it was all done to perfection. The infantry team grasped their end of the rope and gave an almighty pull which was immediately followed by her shout of pain and a dull thud.

Bucky's own worst predictions were confirmed. Compared to Dum Dum, Sadie weighed practically nothing. The jerk of the rope upturned the harness and because she was so small, she went tumbling right out of it, landing flat on her back. Bucky scrambled to the edge, halfway prepared to jump down himself.

"Sadie!" His shout mirrored Dum Dum's hoarse call.

Steve was already at her side, helping her sit up. She coughed hard around a deep grimace. "I'm okay," she promised Steve who continued to fuss over her. "Just winded."

She sounded anything but okay. "A little slower this time?"

When she was ready, Sadie got back into the harness and this time the team pulled up slower. She rose quickly and Bucky took his undisputed spot with Gabe on his right. His heart leapt into his throat when at last she came within reach, holding up her arms for salvation. Bucky and Gabe pulled her to safety and Gabe gladly relinquished her once they were clear of the hole in the floor. Bucky fell back from his knees to sit down, bringing both of his arms tight around the woman who fell into him.

Without regard for any rules or anyone who was watching, Bucky engulfed Sadie in his embrace. She was a filthy, bloody mess but Bucky couldn't have cared less. Falsworth and Dernier pulled Steve back up to safety and everyone around Bucky burst into raucous cheering.

There was plenty of cause for celebration but for all the whooping and hollering, Bucky couldn't utter a sound. Sadie buried her face into his shoulder and clung to him. With every breath she took, her body trembled almost uncontrollably. Whether it was weakness or fear that drove her, Bucky couldn't tell but she did everything she could to be as close to him as she could get, short of wrapping herself inside his jacket. In all the time he held her, savoring the life that pulsed from her skin, Bucky never heard her say a single word. He said nothing too. There were no words he could think of that came anywhere close to describing the overwhelming crush of emotions he felt at having her where she belonged once more. Feeling her nestle deeper into his embrace wasn't just wonderful, it was everything.

X X X

Consciousness came slowly to Sadie. For a long time, she swam through the haze of her lingering dreams, tainted by the dull ache in her head. A beam of warm sunlight fell across her cheek and as she grew more aware, Sadie realized she was lying on a thin mattress and covered by a blanket. Instead of her rolled up jacket, her head rested on a real pillow. When she breathed in, Sadie no longer tasted the stale air or inhaled dust. And the onslaught of even the dim light hurt her eyes the first few times she tried to open them.

"It takes a few minutes to adjust," a wonderfully familiar voice reached her ears.

Dum Dum Dugan's lumbering figure sharpened into full focus. He sat on a cushioned chair with his legs stretched out in front of him. A tiny smile tugged at her lips when she identified his bowler hat, perched jauntily atop his head. A fat cigar sat behind one of his ears, just begging to be smoked.

Sadie shifted onto her back and winced as she did. Every part of her still hurt. "How long was I asleep?" She asked, raising a hand and flexing her fingers before balling them into a fist.

"Two days," he replied cheerfully. "You were starting to scare the hell out of me but everyone said you'd come around on your own time."

She blinked several times while drawing her fingers down one wrist to the inside of her elbow where the needle mark was fading. Clarity washed through her fuzzy mind. Ignoring her body's protests, she sat up in a swift movement. "Doc Holmes?"

"Had a rough couple of nights and he's probably gonna have a permanent limp, but otherwise he'll make a full recovery."

Sadie exhaled sharply, releasing a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Relief finally eased the tension that held her muscles in a vice grip and she slumped against the wall behind her narrow bed. Just the knowledge that her friend was going to pull through made the past few days of hell on earth worth the struggle. Though it was a selfish thought, Sadie couldn't help but take solace in knowing that Doc Holmes' face was one less that would haunt her nightmares. Dum Dum let her celebrate in pleasant silence, trusting her to speak to him when she was ready.

"Where are we?" Sadie realized she vaguely recognized the white-washed plaster walls but couldn't place them. A diamond-pane window stood on the far wall where the light came through the warped glass panes. Dum Dum folded the corner of the page in his book and set it aside.

"Antwerp. Once you passed out you didn't come around again until we got to the hospital here. I think you were awake for a grand total of two minutes before you were out again."

The corners of her mouth turned downwards. "I don't remember any of that."

"Yeah, you were pretty out of it. I thought Bucky was gonna lose his goddamn mind when you still weren't awake before he left."

That got Sadie's attention. "Bucky was here? Where is he now?"

Dum Dum lurched to his feet to steady her when she started to lean forward, only to feel her body's vehement protest. "He's back out with the rest of the unit finishing the job on that factory. If it makes you feel better, he wasn't happy about it at all."

"He wasn't?"

"Nope," said Dum Dum, popping the 'p.' "Didn't want to leave your side. But with the entire aide team indisposed and yours truly still healing up, he didn't have a choice. Evelyn and I promised him we'd keep a close eye on you until you woke up or he got back, whichever came first."

Sadie sighed. She'd hoped against all hope that Bucky would burst through the door any second and unceremoniously kick Dum Dum out so he could conduct the kind of reunion she wanted. The nerve endings in her lips tingled at the thought of his mouth settling over hers, their chins molding together while he lost his fingers in her thick hair. A coil started tightening in the pit of her stomach just thinking about his hands spanning the small of her back, the tips of his fingers digging possessively into her flesh. Her thoughts grew more inappropriate with each passing second until she caught herself imagining taking his weight on top of her, settling himself between her legs. Coughing once, she forced the salacious thoughts from her mind and reached for a fresh avenue of conversation.

"Where's Evelyn?"

"Probably with the Doc," said Dum Dum, perfectly unaffected. "She's been bouncing between the two of you like a damned rubber ball. I hate to break it to you, but he's gotten most of her attention."

Sadie couldn't help it. The knowing, much amused tone of Dum Dum's voice gave away Evelyn's real reason for doting on Doc Holmes. She'd suspected as much for weeks even in spite of Evelyn's vehement denial. Raising an eyebrow, Sadie evaluated Dum Dum's relaxed posture. There was a time when he'd harbored his own crush on the red-headed nurse.

"I hope you're not taking it too hard."

Dum Dum's full-bellied laughter filled the room ceiling to floor, right into the deep crevices in the brick. His blue eyes twinkled and he shook his head. "Don't worry about me. I'm no woman's man. Too wild to be tamed."

Sadie snorted in laughter. "Yeah, we'll go with that."

They shared an affectionate smile, the type she'd give one of her brothers. Dum Dum's mood sobered and he reached across the small gap that separated them and squeezed her knee. If either of them spoke about their ordeal, Sadie knew she'd start crying and that was the last thing she or Dum Dum wanted. A shadow clung to his blue eyes, one she suspected lived in hers too. With a single nod he told her that he understood and that they would carry the same experience forever. Just knowing she wasn't alone in that made all the difference in the world. The emotion started to surface and when her lower lip started to tremble, she pushed her mouth into a smile. Holding out her hand, she wiggled her fingers.

"What are you reading?"

Dum Dum looked as though he could have kissed her for her artful turn away from the past week. He tossed the paperback into her lap. Sadie turned it over and bit her lower lip to cage her smile.

"Agatha Christie?" She asked, smiling down at the well-worn cover of _Death on the Nile_.

"Yeah and I gotta tell you, I think it was the maid." Sadie laughed and handed the book back to him.

"What makes you think that?"

Dum Dum shrugged. "Jealousy and all that. Besides isn't it always the butler who does it in the end? There's no butler here but there is a maid and that's basically the same thing." Sadie clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her giggles at bay. Dum Dum examined her mirth through narrow eyes and scowled. "You've already read it haven't you?" Sadie nodded. "I didn't peg you for a mystery fan."

"Are you kidding? I love Agatha Christie. I read her novels in nursing school when I needed break from studying."

The door opened and a redhead poked her head inside. Evelyn threw the door open in her excitement. "You're awake!" She marched into the room, right up to Dum Dum and smacked him upside the back of his head, unseating his bowler had. "You were supposed to come get someone!"

"Hey! C'mon, Red! I thought I'd give Sadie here a couple minutes to get oriented before you all started poking and prodding her."

Sadie raised a hand to cover her smirk.

"Oh I'm sorry, did you acquire a medical license since I last saw you?" Evelyn snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. When Dum Dum didn't immediately answer, she glowered in triumph. "I thought not. From now on listen to the doctors and nurses on duty, you got that?"

"Loud and clear," he mumbled, winking at Sadie. "I'm going to take that as my cue to leave. Sadie, you're in the good hands of this little tyrant. I already feel sorry for you."

Evelyn put on a good show of throwing Dum Dum out, but Sadie could see both of her friends were in perfectly good humor. Turning back to face Sadie, Evelyn put her hands on her hips and fixed her with a glare. "You're not going to make my life difficult, are you?"

"Of course I am. Nurses make the worst patients, haven't you heard?"

Evelyn dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling. "Lord have mercy. First Doc Holmes and now you? What does a woman have to do for a little peace?"

"Not enlist in the army?" Sadie suggested innocently.

"That's one-hundred percent your fault," Evelyn accused, pointing a sharp finger at her.

Sadie let Evelyn browbeat her into stripping down for a full exam. One by one, Evelyn's checks came out just fine. Her temperature was normal and her pulse close to full strength, along with a healthy enough blood pressure. The bruises that mottled her body from the explosion and her fall weren't as bad as Sadie thought they'd be and the cut above her eye was healing nicely. Evelyn disappeared and to Sadie's delight, returned with a tray of hot food. Her stomach rumbled even at the sight of terrible Army food.

"So, you and Doc Holmes?" Sadie enquired while she tore a roll in half, picking one side into smaller pieces to eat.

Evelyn's face flushed furious crimson, right up to her hairline. "I can't believe he told you that."

"Give him a free pass, the man thought he was going to die. He loves you, why shouldn't he proclaim it to the whole world?"

"Maybe because he hadn't said a word about it to me yet."

"Oh please, like you couldn't read the signs from a mile away," argued Sadie between bites. Evelyn's hollow shock only further intensified Sadie's amusement. "So what are you going to do?"

"It's more what I've already done."

"Profess your love to him over his sickbed?" Asked Sadie, perfectly serious despite her wicked grin. Evelyn's blush returned again in full force. She nibbled on another piece of roll. "Good for you."

Evelyn rested her chin in her hands and there was no mistaking the dreamy expression on her face. It was the same expression Sadie suspected she wore more often than she wanted to admit. To Evelyn's credit, however, she snapped out of it quickly, trading her doe-eyes for a knowing smirk. "You know, I can't believe that Sadie Reid of all people is congratulating me on falling in love with a soldier. If Betty were here she'd faint of shock."

Both women held a personal moment of silence for their friend. "Yes, well, if it makes you feel any better she'd probably be too busy giving me grief to focus too much on you."

"Speaking of which, will you do all of us a favor and put that poor man out of his misery and make up already?"

"I think we already did," Sadie mused, pushing her steel spoon on her plate.

Evelyn groaned. "I heard what happened during the rescue and that doesn't count. You two need to apologize and forgive each other and actually make up."

Sadie's brows furrowed. She set down her spoon and pulled back to stare quizzically at Evelyn. "What do you mean by actually make up?"

"Well, if I were you I'd strip down naked and take him to bed, but that's just me."

Sadie squeaked in surprise. Blood rushed her cheeks so fast and hard that her face started to burn. "Evelyn!" She sounded properly scandalized even if she wasn't completely surprised by Evelyn's candor. "Isn't that a big leap? Going from barely talking to hopping into bed?"

Evelyn remained utterly unflappable and unembarrassed by her suggestion. "For starters you'd hardly be hopping into bed, you've been in love with the man for almost a year. And more to the point you are madly in love with him, aren't you?"

"Well, yes but—"

"And you two are going to spend the rest of your lives together being disgustingly pretty and making disgustingly pretty babies, right?"

"Yes, there's no doubt in my mind."

"Then who honestly cares whether you take a couple of steps out of order?" Evelyn set Sadie's nearly empty tray aside and gathered up her hands. "Sade, this love you've found is so rare. It's what women everywhere dream of finding. But you're always holding yourself back from completely falling because you're afraid of I-don't-know-what. And I just have to ask, what on earth are you waiting for?"

Sadie realized she honesty had no idea.

X X X

Sadie was able to see Doc Holmes for a while and spent the rest of her day and night sleeping. The next afternoon, she dutifully sat for another exam before the doctor on duty released her on the orders that she continue to take it easy. At that point Sadie would have done anything to be free of the hospital. The SSR were quartered in a large boarding house and she'd been given the promise of a room with its own bathroom. Sadie had never looked forward to a bath so much in her entire life. The lure of washing her hair and clearing her skin of the lingering grime almost overpowered her excitement at hearing the Commandos would be back by sundown.

Once the doctor officially released her, she hurriedly gathered her things and wove her way through the hospital. As she neared the stairs that would take her down to the main floor, she heard familiar voices from a partially cracked door.

Sadie paused in the doorway. Evelyn sat at Ian's bedside and although Sadie couldn't hear what she said, the subject matter wasn't hard to guess. Doc Holmes looked up at Evelyn as though she'd personally hung the moon and stars for him and his affection only grew when she brushed the hair from his forehead. He caught her hand and drew it to his mouth, kissing her pale skin with the utmost tenderness. The sweetness could give anyone tooth rot and Sadie felt the twinge of guilt that she was intruding on an incredibly personal moment, but she couldn't look away. Seeing a love in the beginning stages brought up memories of the first giddy, light-headed days of her own love.

A furious longing unfurled in her heart. Sadie could remember how new and shiny she felt every time Bucky looked at her at the start. An army of butterflies would erupt in her stomach when he took her hand in his or when he laughed between rushed kisses in the darkest corner they could find. Her fingers parsed the silver chain around her neck and thumbed the songbird charm. She caught herself wondering if she'd ever told Bucky how safe she felt in his arms or that before they met she was just a shadow of herself.

Bucky brought her back to life. He'd taught her to stop running from the good things life gave her and Sadie would be damned if he wasn't the best thing that happened to her in her twenty-four years.

"And I nearly lost him," she whispered to herself.

Back in his bed, Doc Holmes winced as he shifted, upsetting his leg. Evelyn started to fuss over him and though he tried to talk her down, Sadie caught the tiny, satisfied smile on the doctor's face.

Five steps - maybe even less - and Sadie could have been in Doc Holmes' place. There was no doubt in Sadie's mind that the only reason they were alive was because she escaped the cellar relatively unharmed. What if things had gone differently, she wondered. Would she even be standing here to see Evelyn lean over and kiss Doc Holmes' forehead and whisper sweet nothings to him in a bubble of bliss? Would she have made it out of the cellar and right into Bucky's arms where he held her for what felt like a century?

A dizzying array of 'what if' questions pulled her into a chaotic downward spiral. So many things could have gone wrong and so many outcomes left her buried under the rubble. What if she'd never made it out? What if she never spent a night in Bucky's arms?

The thought was a simple but powerful one. The longing that burned in Sadie's heart roared into a full-fledged fire, sending flames licking through her veins. Mind made up, she spun on her heel and left the new lovebirds behind. Nobody kept a close watch on the supply room, allowing Sadie to slip in unnoticed. She poked through the supply crates until she found exactly what she looking for. The thin cardboard packaging was hardly discreet but it fit easily in the inner pocket of her field jacket. Sadie left as quietly as she came and followed the instructions Dum Dum gave her to get to the SSR headquarters where a room would be waiting for her.

Evelyn promised Sadie she planned to stay at the hospital all night, freeing the room they were to share at the SSR's building. A long night stretched in front of her completely uninterrupted. A small voice in the back of her head began shouting lines from every Sunday school sermon on virtue she'd ever heard, but the words faded into nothing along with the lectures and warnings she received from her mother's friends. The warnings felt flimsy and empty now. Sadie faced her own death too many times already and she wasn't about to go the rest of her life without knowing what really loving Bucky would be like. Somehow she was certain that God or whoever would judge her at the end would give her a free pass. War was hell but even in the most dire circumstances, she'd found something that was beautiful and life-affirming and she was going to experience that to its fullest potential. Anyone who got in the way of that could go straight to hell for all she cared.

X X X

Sadie suspected that no bath she took for the rest of her life would compare to the one she took after leaving the hospital. Though the water was barely hotter than lukewarm, she stood beneath the stream and scrubbed until her hair actually squeaked it was so clean and her skin was shiny and pink. She let the water beat against her face while she tried to chase away her newest demons into an empty, dark corner of her mind where they would stay for a while. Something about the simple act of cleansing herself helped and she gladly let the bitter fear and anxiety wash down the drain with the dirt and grime. When she got out she dried off with a thin towel but felt as though she'd just stepped out of the shower at a luxury hotel, the kind Howard Stark would frequent.

She fished her comb out of her musette and sat down at the vanity to begin untangling the knots. While she worked in sections on her thick hair, she noticed just how long the mass really was. Most women kept their hair shoulder length or a little longer to pull into practical styles. A haircut was a cheap and easy way to keep up with the current fashion but at the moment, Sadie's hair was bordering on unfashionably long. Wet, the dark strands fell well beyond her collar bones, threatening to obscure her chest entirely. Sadie fought a frown. There were plenty of aspects to her appearance that were downright unfashionable.

The war robbed her of so many daily luxuries, of her free time, and of the people she loved but Sadie never imagined that the war would steal from her body. She touched the hollows of her cheeks that swept up to the dark circles beneath her eyes. In London, Sadie could cover the worst evidence with makeup but fieldwork was a different story. Every flaw was on full display, including the still-healing cut above her forehead. Eventually the cut would fade into a scar, just another to add to her growing collection. While her hair dried in unruly curls, she messed with her part, trying to find a way to cover the cut to no avail.

"Looks like you're stuck with it," she muttered to herself and pulled up the towel she wore as it slipped down her chest.

Rationally Sadie knew there was almost nothing she could do about her appearance. Only time would restore her softer curves and the color back to her cheeks. The longer she stared at herself, though, a funny thing happened. The flecks of silver in her grey eyes stood out beneath her dark eyebrows that framed her face so nicely. Sinewy muscle lined her bones and slid beneath her still-smooth skin. Sadie admired the tone in her arms and shoulders, reminding herself that she was stronger than she'd ever been, strong enough to raise up a door to help save her friend. She would take strength over fashionable any day. Her body the way it was had saved countless lives. And the man who loved her didn't seem to give a damn what she looked like.

Her pale, still full lips tugged into a small smile. Knowing Bucky as well as she did, Sadie sincerely doubted he was going to care about the state of her curves once she was naked and underneath him.

"Stop it," she warned herself, feeling the hot blush pool in her cheeks at the mere thought.

But Sadie couldn't stop herself. She thought about the pointless exercise of dressing while she pulled on her spare uniform. Her thoughts strayed to the cardboard packet in the top drawer of the nightstand and the bed just the right size for two. If her mother knew what her daughter was planning she'd surely have a coronary. But Sadie's mother was far away, as was every speech and sermon Sadie had ever heard on the subject of her virginity. Those speeches were meant for women who never faced their own mortality time and again. In another time and in another place Sadie would have no problem making Bucky wait, but not now. Not anymore.

The last of her hair was nearly dry when she heard footsteps thumping in the hallway. Her heart leapt into her throat when someone knocked on the door. Sadie's knees shook as she rose to her bare feet and padded across the room to discover Bucky on the other side of the door.

"Hi," she said lamely.

Bucky's mouth parted slightly in surprise. "I went to the hospital first thing but Evelyn said you were already here."

"The doctor wanted me to stay another night but I couldn't be there anymore. I don't know how I slept through the racket."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed in disapproval. He started to frown and Sadie reached out to take his hands, tugging him gently into the room. "Maybe I should take you back. If you're not healed up enough to leave," he stopped talking when she pressed a finger to his lips.

"I'm fine, Bucky. All that sleep did me a world of good."

The way he stared at her suggested he didn't quite believe her. "Evelyn said you lost a lot of blood."

Sadie bit back her exasperated groan. "I didn't lose it, I gave it to Doc Holmes to keep him alive."

"I don't care if you donated it to the Pope, Sade. She said you could have killed yourself doing it and that Dum Dum was an idiot for not stopping you!"

"I knew exactly what I was doing and how much I was giving up. I wasn't going to kill myself, Bucky."

He scrubbed his face with his hands. Sadie could see the vein jumping out at his neck, suggesting they were nearing the point of actually fighting. Her stomach sank; hadn't they gotten over that hump? "You don't understand, Sade. Seeing the needle and tube on the floor with the blood is something out of my worst nightmares."

Sadie hadn't expected to hear that. Bridging the physical gap between them, she slid her palms across his sides and stepped into him. Bucky responded immediately, pushing her dark curls behind her shoulders. He drew her closer to him. "When I was Zola's guinea pig I had these nightmares of you lying on a table in a giant cage. I watched you bleed to death. Every time I tried to get to you I couldn't. I just had to stand there and watch you die," he explained into her hair. "Seeing something like it in person scared the hell out of me. You scared me, Sade."

As he spoke, Bucky held her tight. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I never meant to do that. You know I would never put you through that on purpose."

"I know," he said and pulled away so he could frame her face with his hands. "Thinking you were dead even for a few hours made me finally realize that I don't think I could survive losing you."

Bucky's thumb ghosted over her cut, prime evidence in his eyes of how close he'd come. The seismic shift in the room and between them threatened to take Sadie's knees out from underneath her. In an instant the chasm separating them disappeared, renewing the ground they stood on and bringing them back together. Sadie rose up to the tips of her toes and before her brain really registered what she was doing, she was kissing Bucky and he was kissing back. No words could convey her feelings the way her touch could and she poured everything into her fingers that curled around the back of his neck, pulling him down to her while she also pulled him against her. Bucky responded in kind, until Sadie lost all sense of where she began and he ended.

"You won't lose me," she swore in the scant seconds they took to breathe before going back under. "I'm yours."

A possessive growl emitted from his chest and Sadie lapped it up like a cat to milk. Her mouth felt magnetized to his, drawn in automatically every time they parted for even a second. Once they got started, Sadie simply couldn't stop kissing Bucky. Three weeks of tension melted away as Bucky deepened the kiss, only for Sadie to nip his lower lip with her teeth. Bucky's hand dropped low to the small of her back and he pushed her hips against his all while he matched her devious streak, all teeth and tongue. Their hands and fingers tangled and fumbled over buttons until his jacket fell to the floor with a gentle thud, followed by his shirt. Sadie's hung open over her slip and just as she started to peel it off, Bucky broke away breathless.

Sadie's chest heaved and she reluctantly welcomed the distance Bucky put between them when he retreated to unlace his boots and kick them off next to the door. He leaned against the door and Sadie wondered if his heart was hammering as hard as hers.

"You've been holding out on me."

Her pink cheeks turned scarlet. "I didn't think—" she broke off, mortified that she'd come on too strong.

"Do not apologize," he said breathlessly. He grinned at her, pushing his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "I missed this."

"Me too," she lamented. "It's funny how a near-death experience can really put things into perspective."

Bucky's smile slipped from his face. "I wish it didn't have to be that way. I shouldn't have ever put you in a spot where you felt that way in the first place." Sadie tilted her head to the side. Bucky's candor surprised her to a degree, he'd been quite tight-lipped since Paris. Now he leaned forward at his waist releasing part of his tension through a drawn out sigh. "You were right, Sade. You were right about everything, about what I was doing and the road I was on. And you were also right about the man I am, or at least the kind of man I want to be."

The spider cracks running along the surface of Sadie's heart started to come back together. Hope burned bright in her chest, lighting up her face. In four short strides she came to him and raised a finger to his lips. Bucky eyed her curiously, unsure of what she would do next. "We don't have to figure it all out tonight," she promised him, thinking that the last thing she really wanted to do was talk. "Just as long as you promise you're in this for the long haul."

"Till death do us part and then some," he vowed from behind her finger. Sadie moved her hand away but Bucky caught it, filling the empty spaces between her fingers with his. "Are you still all in?"

Sadie thought she might melt through the floor upon hearing the concern laced through Bucky's customarily confident voice. That same insecurity flashed in his blue eyes, watching and waiting for a rebuff that would never come. "I can't imagine my life without you. And I don't want to because I know that for me a life without you isn't really a life at all," she peeled off her shirt and let it pool at her feet.

Bucky turned his hand, drawing the backs of his fingers down the length of her bare arm. "I don't deserve you, Sarah Grace."

"I'll remember that the next time you get upset with me," she teased, dredging up a conversation they had months earlier.

"Come here," he murmured, taking her chin in his hand. Sadie rose up to meet him in a passionate kiss, the kind that left her dizzy and lightheaded. She gladly molded her body to his, parsing out his muscles with her curious fingertips. Bucky found her hips and gripped them tight, digging his thumb into the gently protruding bone as he brought her right up against him. The heat radiating from his body into hers staved off the cool air that pierced through her camisole. When he took a step into her she felt him pressing against her lower stomach, a signal that she wasn't alone in her pent-up desire. Her eyes fluttered shut when he started to kiss along her neck, lazily winding his way up to her earlobe. A soft moan escaped her parted lips when he nipped it with his teeth.

Sadie's stomach swooped pleasantly. "You've ruined me, I hope you know that," she teased, moving her head to the side to give him better access to her neck. Bucky dragged the tip of his nose along her skin, inhaling the scent while setting her nerves off like firecrackers. "I was a perfectly sensible woman before you came along and did things like this to me."

The heat building in her lower stomach intensified, drawing inward to the very core of her body when he smiled against her neck. "I'd apologize but I'm not even a little sorry. I love you this way. But I'll stop if you want me to."

"No," she protested and drew him closer when he started to pull back. "Don't stop. Stay the night."

"Sadie," he warned her, using just a tiny fraction of his superior strength to work out of her hold. He drew back a couple of steps, panting through his already swollen lips. "I meant what I said about waiting. I don't mind, I want to wait if that's what you want to do."

"Well I don't want to," she argued. "And noble intent aside, I don't think you want to wait either. Bucky, we've been through hell and back more than once," she started to unbutton her pants. Bucky stood stone still, transfixed by her sudden bout of bravery. "We have been shot at, bombed, separated, taken as prisoner, and buried alive. I have treated every kind of horrific wound imaginable and you've seen enough bloodshed for ten lifetimes, but we're still here and I don't want to take that for granted." Sadie pushed her pants off her hips and stepped out of them, kicking them away. Bucky's throat bobbed up and down when he swallowed hard but didn't stop his eyes from liberally raking over the length of her body.

"I have heard every single Sunday school sermon and well-meaning lecture on the virtues of waiting but I honestly don't care anymore," she tugged her camisole off and let the silky material slip through her fingers to rest atop her shirt. "And I know you want to do right by me but you're forgetting that I decide what's right for me and we both know that what we have is the real thing and how could that possibly be wrong?" Bucky made a strangled noise but Sadie ignored him and instead reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. To drive her point home, she tossed the satin garment to rest at his feet. She edged her thumbs beneath the band of her underwear and shimmied out of them. All of her hair fell over one shoulder, partially obscuring her body from his view.

"You are the love of my life, James Barnes and I want to be with you in every way." Sadie ignored her absolutely pounding heart, she grazed her hands over her stomach and hips before lifting her head, sweeping her curls behind her shoulder. Her heart threatened to come out of her chest but she raised her eyes to meet his. Bucky stared at her in open wonder and wanting. Darkness filled his eyes and Sadie knew then that her bold move was about to pay off in spades.

"Jesus Christ, Sadie, are you trying to kill me?" He asked and Sadie thoroughly enjoyed hearing the crack in his voice. Sadie's nerves melted away under his gaze admiring not only her body but her audacity and sheer bravery. Bucky drank in her slim muscle and small breasts standing out in the cool room, leading to the subtle curve of her waist rounding down to her slim thighs. The flaws she saw were invisible to him; he only saw a world of smooth skin and gentle curves to memorize. Her breath hitched in her chest when he came to her and raised his eyes and hands to her face. "You're—you're so—I—are you sure?"

"I am. To hell with regulations, rules, lectures, and morals. I don't care about them, Bucky. I really, honestly don't care."

And in the end, neither did Bucky.

 **A/N: I still haven't decided if that's a mean way to end a chapter or not but it sure was fun to write. Next chapter picks somewhere close-ish to where we leave off.**

 **Love it? Hate it? Or are you throwing your hands up in frustration shouting FINALLY at the screen? I'd love to know any and all thoughts! Much love – Kappa.**


	29. Compromises and Comfort

**A/N: Well, hello there! This chapter is another long one and there's not much to say because it's pretty much all laid out there. I loved writing it and I think it's another big turning point for our lovebirds for more than one reason. I hope you all like it because I'm definitely nervous about it.**

 **In other news – thank you SO much for all of the love! Your reviews make my day and lately I've been in need because work has been pretty rough. Extra thanks to my beta-extraordinaire Stencil Your Heart who at this point might know Sadie better than I know her myself.**

 **The usual language warning applies and that M rating is also definitely in effect for this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** _ **Cap**_ **or** _ **Marvel**_ **. If I did I'd probably just forgo the impending heartbreak of** _ **Infinity War**_ **and have an entire move of Cap/Bucky/Sam bromance.**

 **Chapter 29: Compromises and Comfort**

Of the many buildings still standing in Antwerp, a municipal building with a tall clock tower took up a corner lot a couple of blocks away from the SSR headquarters. Made of sturdy brick and stone, the clock tower survived entirely unscathed through the intense fighting that saw bombers and tanks. Even the mechanisms remained well-tuned and at the precise stroke of midnight, the bells behind the large clock face rang out, signifying the start of a new day and that all was well.

Sadie's mother called midnight the witching hour. When she was a girl her mother delighted in spinning nasty little tales about how witches came out at midnight to brew their potions and work spells that would make the hair on Sadie's head stand on end. She would peer fearfully into the darkness and imagine she could see shadows moving between the trees, witches and their black cats heading into the deep to do wicked things. As a child it was a wondrous, cautionary tale about straying far from home but the older Sadie got, the more those cautionary tales turned into outright lectures and the wonder of the magic wore off. Instead of witches dancing beneath the full moon, Sadie was instructed to avoid the witching hour lest she garner a reputation. Self-respecting girls were home well before midnight and young married women would never dream of being caught out at such an hour.

Those lectures fell into a series of talks Sadie received over the years. Even then Sadie noticed the contradictory statements that created an almost impossible standard to achieve. She wasn't supposed to fall in love too fast, but making a man wait for her was wrong too. The goal was to find a husband but she wasn't supposed to limit her options too soon. Be open to physical affection but never go too far. Men could have partners before marriage but god forbid she did. The list went on and on, all with the sole goal of protecting her virginity until her wedding night and transforming her into the kind of wife that any man would give his eyeteeth to have.

For Sadie, the dangers of disease and an unwanted pregnancy were enough to ward her away from the act altogether. There had been suitors, men who promised her the world and swore she hung the moon and stars. Sadie indulged in innocent dalliances, dates and front-porch kisses that left her red-cheeked but never burning. Even her most serious pursuer left a lot to be desired, despite his dogged attempts to win her over. Then the war started and Sadie resigned herself to waiting.

But as the bells continued to ring, she settled deeper into her pillow set up against the wrought iron footboard of her bed and hid her smile behind the hand supporting her chin. On the other side of the bed, Bucky gestured animatedly while he spun her a story about his sister's big mouth getting the better of the both of them. The witching hour came but for all of Sadie's supposedly bad behavior, she hadn't turned into a toad. In fact, as she stretched her long legs she relished the pleasant ache in her muscles and savored even more the fact that she wasn't the least bit sorry for what she'd done. Bucky paused and she slightly raised one of her eyebrows, already knowing where the story was headed.

"What happened next?" She asked, chin still propped in her hand. From where she lay she had a perfect, unobstructed view of her partner and she unabashedly soaked up the best sight she'd seen all war. If Bucky caught her staring at him as though he were a three-layer chocolate cake, he certainly didn't care. Instead he grinned and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling.

"Next thing I know, Rebecca marches right up to the guy and tells him that she warned him to keep his trap shut and his hands to himself. Before I could even stop her she cocked her fist back and wham! Sucker punched the guy right in the mouth."

Sadie collapsed, turning her face into her pillow to muffle her laugh, imagining tiny Rebecca Barnes dropping some guy to the ground. She raised her head, sending a spray of curls over her face. "I bet that went over really well."

"My mom almost had a heart attack when we got home and I had a black eye," ruminated Bucky with a scowl she could barely see through her hair. "When I asked Rebecca where learned how to hit someone you want to guess who she said?"

"Steve?"

"Steve," Bucky confirmed through his funny grimace of long-suffering. "I go my whole life trying to keep my sister out of fights and I leave her alone with Steve for five minutes and he teaches her how to punch a guy better than he ever could."

Sadie swept her long fingers through her hair, unsettling the sheet and blanket she'd pulled up high over her chest. Her pale, still-swollen lips drew into a smile. "It's funny to hear you talk about Steve before the serum. I've seen his personnel picture and I still can't believe he used to be that small."

When she spoke, she tugged the blanket back over her chest before it slipped too low and exposed her naked chest to the cool air. Bucky's open disappointment came as a compliment. He freely let his gaze wander down the exposed line of her neck to her collar, retracing the paths his mouth travelled earlier that night. Nerve endings just beneath the surface of Sadie's skin twitched and tingled at even the thought of his rough fingers slipping down the valley between her breasts or his teeth grazing her collar bone. She shifted her legs to bring them closer together in response to the fresh wanting that swelled up in her lower stomach.

Bucky's eagle eyes caught her and he only made things worse when he bit his lower lip. What was he thinking about, she wondered. Sadie almost worked up the gumption to ask but ruled against it. She wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet just a little bit longer.

"He's not that much different to be honest," Bucky leapt back to their conversation, just as determined as she was to keep his desire at bay. "He's still a moron who can't walk away from a fight or talk to a woman, but it's nice knowing he's not going to get sick again like he did when we were kids. Although I could do without all the 'I told you so's' he still likes to rub in my face."

"Like what?"

Bucky didn't quite meet her eyes. He twisted a corner of the sheet between his fingers. "Like you," he admitted. When Sadie didn't immediately answer he took it as a sign to explain. "Did I ever tell you that a couple nights before we met, Steve told me that sooner or later I was gonna meet a woman I couldn't charm and I'd end up falling head over heels for her?" Sadie shook her head. He lifted one corner of his mouth into a lopsided smile. "I told him he was full of it and two days later I met you."

The memory of their meeting stood out clearly to Sadie, as did her distaste for his antics. There were so many stories she filed away to tell later, but that first meeting was one of her favorites. "I didn't think I'd see you again. It's funny how the world works, isn't it?"

"Sort of like we were meant to keep running into each other."

Sadie nodded and bit back a soft sigh. Suddenly the distance between them seemed to be too much. She could feel the atmosphere in the room shift, heading for a long overdue conversation. Bucky regarded her carefully, trying to gauge her mood while he toed the line. There were questions resting on the tip of his tongue, begging to be asked and Sadie wondered what was holding him back.

"I'm glad of it. I can't imagine going through this war without you."

"What about when we go home?" Bucky asked, taking the bait she set up for him. "Do you think we'll be happy together after we get out and there's no more war?"

Sadie pushed herself to sit up, holding the sheet and blanket against her chest. "Is that what you really want? To leave the army?"

The old mattress creaked when Bucky followed her example and sat up. The blanket pooled low around his waist. He leaned forward to reach for her. Sadie followed his lead and came to him, bringing her knees to either side of his body. She settled on his lap, ducking her head to hide her pleased expression when he reached around her to wrap the blanket about her exposed back, cutting it off from the chill in the air. Sadie loosely draped her arms around his shoulders. Their closeness made the topic of their future feel less daunting.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking about it and about the choice you gave me in Paris. I'd already made up my mind before I even knew you were trapped and I realized there was no living without you. And I need to know if you're open to a third choice because losing you isn't an option but Sade, I can't just let that bastard go either."

Out of nervous habit, Sadie reached for her necklace only to remember she wasn't wearing it. The chain hung with her dog tags, out of reach and even though she actually was naked, she felt even more exposed without her little talismans. Fighting down her nerves she instead rest a hand against his collar and rubbed her thumb over his warm skin.

"What do you have in mind?"

Cool fingers tipped her chin up, forcing Sadie to drown in his blue eyes. "I've been thinking about what I can and can't live without. I can live with that man rotting in a jail cell but I can't live without you. So that's what I want to do. I want to catch him and throw him in a jail cell and after that's done and the war's over, we'll leave the army and start a real life together."

Bucky rendered her speechless. All Sadie could do was pepper his lips with a series of kisses until he was laughing and holding her back so he could get another word in edgewise.

"I'm gonna take that as yes, you're on board with that plan."

"It's perfect," she promised. But her brows snapped together when a new thought occurred to her. "You're not going to expect me to give up nursing to be your pretty stay at home wife, are you?"

Bucky snorted in laughter and shook his head. "Hell no. You'd be miserable if you weren't up to your elbows in work. Although if you ever felt like cooking dinner wearing nothing but an apron I'm not opposed."

"You're the worst," she mumbled, smacking his shoulder to his amusement.

"But you love me," he persisted. Sadie sighed dramatically and the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"Someone has to, I suppose." Bucky chuckled but leaned into her touch when she pushed her fingers through his hair. When she raised her arms, the blanket slipped off her chest and fell to her waist. Fresh heat transferred from his skin to hers, fanning the flames she hoped would never die out. Bucky traced formless patterns on her bare back, sweeping up to the top of her neck only to wind his way down her spine. Sadie wondered if his touch would always elicit such a wonderful reaction. Closing her eyes, she drank in the anticipation that began to build up between them.

Sadie understood all the lecturing now. She understood the warnings and the delicate language used to describe sex. Words like satisfaction and passion never entered her mind until she met Bucky. But her muscles ached in the best way possible and an almost unbearable need welled up within her, building in pressure between her legs as he lowered his lips to her neck and rocked his hips upwards into her. She'd already felt Bucky's hands worship her bare skin and the rush of heady emotion when he moved inside of her for the first time but she was hungry for more. The words he'd whispered in her ear were downright scandalous and Sadie lapped them up in the heat of the moment while he taught her how to move with him, setting a pace that eventually set them both off like fireworks on the Fourth of July. She now knew the reason she'd been cautioned against jumping the gun because now that she had, she never wanted to stop.

"We can have any life we want, Sade," he promised, leaning her back in his arms so he could leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her breastbone. "And we're gonna be so happy, wait and see."

"I think we're off to a pretty damn good start, buck sergeant."

He chuckled against her chest, raising his hands up the sides of her ribcage until his thumbs pushed into the soft flesh of her breasts. Bucky's slightly chapped lips dragged along her skin, piquing new nerves and setting loose an unholy ache between her legs. Sadie became complicit in his grasp, following his lead as he shifted her into one arm, hand planted firmly between her shoulder blades. The muscles in his arms started to quiver, but if he noticed the effort he ignored it in favor if brushing the tip of his nose past the dusty rose peak of her breast. She squirmed in his hold and he very nearly dropped her in surprise.

"Steady," he counseled through his low laugh. "I really don't want to drop you. Talk about an embarrassing way for the night to go."

Sadie let her head fall back and smiled up at the ceiling. "I would never judge you."

"Liar." She could hear the open affection in his voice. "I remember the way you looked at me when we met."

"In my defense, you were a jerk when we met."

Bucky laughed before gently biting against the soft swell of her breast. A gasp popped out of her swollen lips and her hips jerked forward in response, right against where he was pressed against her thigh. "Well, however I was then I definitely did something right to get here," he muttered before he curved a palm beneath her breast, sweeping his thumb up over the taut peak.

"Bucky," his name left her on an exhale.

Bucky didn't answer her. Sadie raised her head back up in time to watch him squeeze her breast and lower his lips onto her, toying with her using his teeth and tongue. Sadie rocked against him, blindly reaching forward to plunge her fingers into his hair, gripping tight lest she lose her balance and fall backward.

Beneath them the old mattress springs started to whine. Sadie clawed at the blankets that still bunched up between their bodies, getting rid of any and all barriers separating them. They slid to the floor which allowed Bucky to reach behind her and grasp her backside, pulling her higher onto him. Her cry filled the room when he started to suck on the tip of her breast, forcing him to tear his mouth off of her.

"I love the sounds you make," he admitted, panting for air. "But—"

"Thin walls," she finished the thought for him, coming back into her own head.

"Believe me," he replied in a deadpan voice, guiding her back upright. Her forehead came to rest against his, already glistening with fresh sweat that dampened the roots of his hair. "One day, when we're really alone, when there's nobody around for miles, I'm gonna find out how loud you really are after I put you up against a wall and-" he bit his lower lip, stopping himself.

Sadie could only assume that Bucky was holding back for her benefit. That simply wouldn't do. She was inexperience, but not sheltered. To prove her point, she twined a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him deep. He tasted faintly of whiskey and she inhaled the fresh tang of sweat mixed with his aftershave. Sadie grazed her teeth along his lower lip when she released him, prompting him to finish his thought while her lips were still touching his. "And you'll what?"

Bucky's voice was delightfully strangled. "Fuck you till you can't walk."

A shiver traversed Sadie's spine that coincided with the flush that swirled into her cheeks. The little things he said over time often reminded her of how innocent she really was. Even now, naked and straddling his lap, she had the capacity to blush not only at the notion of Bucky doing such a thing, but that she knew she would thoroughly enjoy it. But for all of her newness, certain things hadn't changed. Whenever Bucky had a smart comment she always had one in return. "Just so long as you buy me dinner first."

Bucky made a funny noise caught somewhere between a laugh and a cough that convulsed his chest. "Only you," he muttered lovingly when he recovered. "You're the only woman I've ever met who keeps me on my toes like this. I love that I never know what you're going to do or say next. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Sadie bit back the obvious comment that she had a pretty good idea, given she could feel him against her inner thigh, but she relented. Instead of giving him the cheap answer she, tilted her head to the side and examined his expression when she spread her legs wider apart and dropped herself low against him. The humor coloring Bucky's face disappeared in an instant, replaced by concentration - or was it pleasure? She rocked against him again and swore she saw a flash of pain, as though being so close to her was agonizing.

One of his strong hands twisted into the hair at the nape of her neck. Sadie's main focus, however, came to his other hand sitting at her lower back, actively pushing her forward and setting a rhythm that hit all of the right notes.

"Everything is so new to you," he grunted, the strain in his voice inadvertently revealing how much he was restraining himself. "I love that it's all with me."

Bucky wasn't wrong that everything was new to Sadie. The sounds that came from her throat were as foreign as the notion that Bucky could turn her on just by grazing her earlobe with his teeth or even looking at her the right way. She couldn't understand how both friction and the glide of her sweat-slicked skin on his felt so heavenly. Why did she have the almost uncontrollable urge to leave scratches down his back or to bite the spot on his neck just below the angle of his jaw? They'd gone months and Sadie never once considered how nice Bucky's stubble felt dragging down her stomach. Why did she suddenly appreciate his teeth now that she'd felt him playfully bite the underside of her breast - or his biceps, which she gripped onto for support when he finally moved inside of her for the first time?

As if he could read her mind, Bucky smoothed her hair from her face. "Feel free, I'm yours to explore. But be warned," he secured her against him and in a swift motion came over her, pinning her down to the mattress. "It's only fair I can too."

Sadie started to ask what he meant but her throat dried out when he kneeled between her legs. She loved the way he towered above her, appearing at once imposing and utterly perfect. Bucky mastered a certain expression of hunger, his dark eyes hooded and predatory, catching her smallest movements and looking for a moment of vulnerability that he could pounce on. He grazed an open, callused palm down the length of her shin before grasping it. Sadie shifted, her chest rising up as Bucky watched her, calculating her reactions to everything he did. His eyes followed the bob of her throat when she swallowed as he raised her leg up, bringing her heel to rest against his shoulder. The straight line of her shin and her smooth, pale skin contrasted with the dark hair that dusted his chest and the defined muscles that slid and contracted when he moved. Bucky kept one eye on her, turning his mouth to the inside of her ankle and began to kiss his way down her leg. The way his palm curved over her calf was downright sinful, reminding Sadie of the way he touched other places of her body.

"Feels good, doesn't it," he mused, his blue eyes unwavering. Sadie involuntarily tipped her chin back, plunging her fingers into her wild, tangled curls.

Sadie wanted to tell him to shut up and that she wasn't going to dignify him with an answer, but she couldn't. She loved hearing his cocky tone too much. Bucky worked his way down to her knee and released her leg, taking up the other. Sadie let her eyes fall shut, focusing on the feel of his open-mouthed kisses that drifted lower and lower. The tip of his nose skimmed along her inner thigh and a sheen of sweat broke out over her body, timed right with the anticipation that clenched down on her stomach when his fingers danced ahead of his lips.

A faint cry fell from her lips with he swept the tip of his index finger over her. Bucky said nothing, but the appreciative growl against her leg was enough. Sadie exhaled sharply and her lungs struggled to draw in more air, unable to keep up with her absolutely pounding heart. And then he lightly bit the inside of her thigh.

"Perfect," he muttered, more to himself than her. Sadie's back arched. It was unfathomable to her that another person's touch could feel this incredible.

"You're a horrible person," she rasped.

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea," he teased, stroking her again before dipping a finger in. He made a point of meeting her eyes when he raised his finger to his lips. Sadie almost fell apart just watching him. "If I'd known when we met that you tasted this good? I wouldn't have wasted so much time."

"And they say romance is dead," she joked, kicking at his shoulder.

Bucky rewarded her cheek with a wolfish grin before returning to his mission. He assaulted her stomach and hips with wet kisses, purposely teasing her with his fingers until she was on the verge of begging. But when he settled himself between her legs, the first touch of his mouth on her set her off, producing a sensory overload that overwhelmed her body. She jerked away hard in response and cracked the top of her head on one of the wrought iron posts of the footboard.

"Holy shit, are you okay?"

In a flash, Bucky pulled her up into his lap. One of Sadie's hands covered the throbbing top of her head but the tears Bucky likely feared weren't present. Instead, when he shoved away the mess of her curls she was laughing so hard her stomach hurt. "Leave it to me," she gasped through bouts of laughter, "to mess it up at the worst possible moment."

As soon as Bucky was satisfied that Sadie wasn't gravely injured, his laughter mingled with hers. "Reminds of me of something I heard once: If you're not laughing you're doing it wrong."

Sadie kissed him through her laughter, but soon that died out. They became a tangle of fingers and limbs, replacing mirth with passion and letting the moment carry them both away. Bucky shifted her and Sadie gladly relinquished control back to him, allowing him to recline her back in the pillows and move on top of her. The places where their bodies met slipped and Sadie pulled him down onto her, ravenous to feel more of his warm weight. The want he'd stirred up within her returned with a vengeance and she felt an emptiness that she could hardly bear. Bucky read her like an open book and took her hand, guiding it to the right place. Sadie stroked him with self-assured movements, familiar with this part of sex at the very least. Bucky balanced his weight on one hand, throwing a hand out and groping around on the bedside table until he found the condoms, interrupting her long enough to roll one on.

He lined his hips up and pressed himself right up against her. Muscles Sadie couldn't even name shuddered and clenched in anticipation. Something akin to hesitation must have registered on her face because Bucky's voice was all concern.

"Sade?"

"I—" She couldn't unstick her tongue from the bone dry roof of her mouth.

"We have time. It doesn't all have to be at once, you know?"

"It's just," she grasped either side of his face and pulled him down to her in a fierce kiss. Her bottom lip quivered when she pulled back and brushed her mouth against his when she spoke. "I need you—I just need you, Bucky."

That was all the encouragement Bucky needed. Taking care with her still-adjusting body, he moved inside of her. Sadie released a shuddering breath and rocked against him. Bucky started to move, driving his body forward and deeper inside of her. Sadie only barely remembered the room's thin walls at the last second, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. Bucky grunted into her neck, hooking his hand over her leg and drawing it around his waist. Sadie found the rhythm easier this time, bringing her body up to meet his, matching his pace blow for blow. The pressure built up higher and higher until Sadie was certain she would literally break into a thousand pieces. Bucky counseled her in one ear, his voice ragged and raw while urging her to let go. When she did she came off the mattress, burying her face into his neck, shouting his name, digging her fingernails into him so deep that she left ten perfect, red crescent-shaped marks, claiming him for her own.

But the pressure didn't dissipate as he continued. The nerves in her body remained on high-alert, unable to interpret the haywire signals coming from her overloaded brain. Every time Bucky's body came away from hers, she ached for him and in the instant he thrust into her she could hardly stand the euphoric feeling that rushed through her. In a desperate bid to feel that release again, Sadie threw her hand up between the bars of the headboard, shoving her palm against the wall. She pushed with all of her weight, forcing herself onto Bucky. Stars shattered behind her eyes and Bucky let out a colorful curse when their hips slammed together.

"Fuck, Sade, I'm gonna—" he didn't finish his sentence. Once, twice, three more times Sadie pushed against the wall. In response Bucky dropped to an elbow and crushed her body against his. He rocked into her one more time and his muscles clenched and convulsed before he fell apart. He buried his face in the pillow to muffle his groan of satisfaction, clutching the top edge of the mattress with a death grip. While Bucky recovered, Sadie wound her arms around him, carding her fingers through his damp hair.

"Are you alright?" She asked when she realized that he was shaking.

"My heart is beating so hard right now," he rasped, still trying to catch his breath.

"Mine too," she whispered. Bucky lifted his head and he sought her lips out.

Though the kiss was hardly the first they'd shared that night, a fresh desperation colored the action. When Bucky pulled back Sadie was stunned to see his eyes were red and puffy. She shifted her body beneath his and he responded, moving off her and onto his side. Bucky drew her against him and she brushed the hair from his forehead. The look on her face asked the question she couldn't. Bucky's eyes searched out every feature of her face, committing it to memory from the freckles to her parted lips to the healing cut. "I need you too," he admitted, more vulnerable than Sadie had ever heard him. "I need you so much."

Too many realities collided at once. All of the close calls, the days and nights spent in peril and the uncertain future that lay in store for them came rushing back as a reminder of all that they'd lost and everything at stake. Sadie nodded in understanding that Bucky needed her for more than just the good times. He needed her when every minute seemed a struggle and when the darkness was encroaching on him. Bucky needed her to be alive, to be his compass when he'd lost his way, and to be his dance partner even when the music stopped playing. The wall he'd constructed separating her from that side of him came toppling down and Sadie fell freely through to the other side.

"I want this life," she vowed with everything she had. "This one here with you, wherever it takes us."

Bucky nodded solemnly and drew her hand into his, threading their fingers together. "It's yours. My life is all yours."

More promises would come later. There would be a proposal and rings and vows that sealed the deal for God and the rest of the world to see, but those would all be extra blessings. For Sadie, it was enough to hold onto her love and exchange the promises that mattered, the ones that tied them together for life. No amount of grand gestures in the world could replace that moment, intertwined with Bucky on an old bed in the middle of a half-destroyed city. Bombshells could have been falling all around them and Sadie would have never noticed. She saw nothing but the man in her arms, heard nothing but his comforting voice and felt nothing but his tender touch.

It wasn't until the sweat on her body began to cool that either of them moved. The first shiver slipped down her spine. Bucky left her long enough to clean up and when he returned it was to find her trembling while she gathered the sheet and blanket off the floor. He pulled them up for her and drew the covers high around them, cradling her close to him. The silence that enveloped them felt as comfortable and natural as Bucky's embrace. Sadie melted into him, her muscles almost jelly from the exertion. Bucky seemed to know that he'd spent her, tapping out what energy she'd regained from her ordeal because he kissed the top of her head and urged her to go to sleep; he would wake her up before he left.

Morning would come too soon and Sadie dreaded it. She wanted to exist in the afterglow forever, a place where she wouldn't have to confront her newest demons. Bucky stroked her back for a while until his arm grew heavy with exhaustion and he settled for draping it protectively over her waist. In that moment Sadie didn't care if they were in Antwerp or Brooklyn, fighting a war or not, married or not. She now belonged to him wholly and permanently. The litany of awful things that came out of the war were endless and ongoing, but Sadie couldn't help but believe that she'd willingly go through it all again for the sake of the man holding her. The war gave her Bucky Barnes and for that Sadie would be eternally grateful.

X X X

A sharp draft cut through Sadie's wool Class A jacket. She wished she'd thought to bring a coat with her to the church but that thought, along with several others, escaped her that morning. The walk there was pleasant enough, punctuated by the sun emerging from the clouds and washing over her face. She'd walked arm-in-arm with Nurse Young from the SSR hospital while Evelyn pushed Doc Holmes' wheelchair, pointedly ignoring the man's grumbling. Despite a tremendous protest on his part, no doctor on duty would disagree with the nurses and allow Doc Holmes to make the trek from his hospital bed to the church on crutches. Doctor Dunn, his replacement, wholeheartedly agreed with Sadie and Evelyn that he would likely collapse after two blocks and make a complete embarrassment of himself. So he went along with the rest of the off-duty hospital staff to attend the brief memorial service for Corporal Gutierrez.

All-in-all, Sadie thought the memorial was quite beautiful for what it was, or at least what she remembered of it. Midway through her mind lost itself down the same dark path that tempted her all week long. She raised her head to examine the exposed wood ceiling beams and flinched so hard she bumped into Evelyn. An earsplitting crack and crunch that nobody else could hear filled her ears and she swore she felt the building rattle around her, threatening to fall apart and bury her again. The priest gave a beautiful sermon about the glories of heaven and its welcoming arms, but Sadie never heard a word. Her eyes became glassy and faraway as she stared down the aisle and out of a doorway that wasn't really there. Thunder rolled through her chest. In the distance Gutierrez stood out in the dangerous open.

 _"Luis!"_ She'd yelled for him until her throat was raw and her lungs nearly collapsed from lack of air.

The rest of the church couldn't see the flash and fire that swirled into being. Nobody could hear the echo of her shriek of terror. What Sadie saw then came back to her now. Corporal Luis Gutierrez flung across the lane to land at a sickening angle before smoke engulfed the wreckage of the truck. She sucked in a tight breath as if Dum Dum was immediately behind her again, jerking her backwards to safety, ignoring her wailing.

 _"I'm not leaving him! No!"_

Sadie blinked forcefully into the nothing. She wanted to cry but her eyes were dry. At the front of the church, the priest began to pray. A framed photograph of Gutierrez stood on the altar, flanked by simple flowers. That was the only sign that the SSR was there to grieve a lost member. No casket stood at the front because there was no body in London to bury. Only after Sadie woke up in the hospital did she learn that Steve and the others buried Gutierrez near the ruins of the farmhouse. There would be no grave marker to commemorate his resting place. Just a letter sent to his grieving mother and the house call no one ever wanted to receive. Gutierrez liked to tell stories about his larger-than-life five-foot tall mother. Sadie could only imagine the grief that would drown her when she learned that her son would never come home.

Her stomach twisted itself in a knot. Sadie tried not to think about the fact that she was the last person he ever saw. She'd been the last sight for too many soldiers. She'd been one of the last things Betty ever saw. Sadie continued to stare out into the void, face slack.

A hand filled hers, giving it a squeeze hard enough to rub her tendons together. The short burst of pain jolted Sadie back into the present. At first she struggled to recognize the pale hand still holding hers, the long fingers and unfamiliar calluses. Following the wrist and forearm across Evelyn's lap, she looked up to see Doc Holmes leaning across Evelyn, grasping her tight to tether her back to the real world.

"You okay?" He mouthed. Evelyn watched the exchange with slightly parted lips.

Sadie couldn't even bring herself to nod or shake her head. Nearly a year ago to the day, in the immediate wake of Corporal Meyers' death, Sadie told Bucky she wasn't sure if she'd ever be alright again. The sentiment echoed throughout her louder than ever. Instead of coming up with some sort of affirmative or negative response, Sadie patted the top of Doc Holmes' hand. He let go but never quite took his eyes off her, and neither did Evelyn.

A few pews ahead of her, Sadie could see the Commandos sitting together. Dum Dum's shoulders remained unnaturally tight throughout and she wondered if he was struggling with the same sights she was. Steve also sat ramrod straight. He'd taken Gutierrez's loss surprisingly hard, the first man from the larger unit to die, even if Gutierrez was never a Commando the same way the others were. During one of her shifts he'd come to see her, asking for her opinion on the handwritten letter he planned to send to Gutierrez's mother. Steve's prose, while not beautiful, was heartfelt and betrayed how personally he took the loss even though he acknowledged it was an unavoidable part of war. It was too much to hope that the entire unit would get out of Europe unscathed. Ian Holmes was proof positive of that.

And then there was Bucky sitting between Steve and Howard. He seemed fidgety and unsettled. Sadie would bet every dollar of her next paycheck that he was fighting the impulse to turn around and find her in the congregation. In the week since returning to London they'd hardly seen each other, too overwhelmed by their respective duties to find the time to steal away together. Sadie felt his absence more than usual. Bucky had an uncanny ability to say a handful of words or put his arm around her and turn the whole world around. More than ever she needed that talent, as she warred with herself. Her mood changed on a dime all week long, swinging hard between almost uncontainable happiness and the echoing, empty grief brought on by Gutierrez's death itself and every loss that returned fresh to the forefront of her mind.

The priest gestured to the congregation and everyone stood for the final benediction. She and Evelyn stayed seated with Doc Holmes and Doctor Dunn while the rest of the church filtered out. Bucky caught her eyes and touched her hand when he passed, unable to stop and talk. Sadie knew that already, he had to join the rest of the Commandos for a mission briefing that would last the rest of the day. They would be forced to wait until that night when the entire unit planned to meet at the pub to drink in honor of their fallen friend. When at last the church was empty, she retrieved Doc Holmes' wheelchair and held it steady while Evelyn and Doctor Dunn helped Doc Holmes into it.

"You all go ahead, I want a couple of minutes alone."

Mercifully, her friends left without protest. Sadie waited until she was truly alone before she drifted away from the main aisle, toward a small alcove. Hard wood kneelers sat before rows of red glass votives. Many candles were already lit. She took a long match and lit it on the large white candle at the back and chose a cluster of unlit votives. The first one set forth a soft glow, burning warm through the translucent red glass.

"For Luis," she said under her breath and said a short prayer for the radioman who liked to bring extra Hershey's bars to give to little kids they met during their travels.

Sadie lit a second votive.

"For Betty." She said another prayer for her dear friend who never had a real funeral and who would never know how much she would be missed even a year later.

"For my father," she whispered and lit a third candle. Her throat closed up. The prayer leapt to the tip of her tongue but her lips wouldn't work. After almost three years she still felt the shock as though it were fresh and still hoped for letters that would never come and for advice she would never hear.

Pushing the grief away even if only for a little longer, Sadie lit a fourth candle. "For everyone else left behind. That you're never forgotten."

Too many names and faces came to her at once. The friends she'd made in the 80th and the 107th that never left Italy. The victims of HYDRA's scourge left burning in the wreckage. The thousands of men who never made it past the beaches in Normandy and the thousands more who would never return home. Sadie said a prayer for all of them, hoping with all of her heart that there were still more she could save.

When she finished, Sadie rose and stood back from the candles. There, in a little diamond shape, four votives emitted a warm glow. It was a simple gesture but Sadie took comfort in it. She watched the flames dance for a moment longer before turning to leave. Evelyn waited for her outside.

"I didn't think you should be alone," she explained.

"Doc didn't need your help getting back?" Sadie asked, surprised that Evelyn would leave Ian in Doctor Dunn's exceptional hands even for the short trip back to the hospital.

"This was more important."

Silently, Sadie thanked her lucky stars for Evelyn Lewis. The redhead linked their arms together, leading the leisurely stroll back to the SSR quarters. Sadie suspected their languid pace had a lot to do with things Evelyn had yet to say. After half a block of silence, Sadie was the first to break.

"I keep thinking about the reception after my father's funeral. After I'd spoken to pretty much everyone in the whole of Arkansas, I had to get out of the house. My feet were killing me in the new shoes my mother made me wear and Betty found me sitting on the back porch. Turns out she'd swiped a bottle of my father's favorite bourbon when nobody was looking."

Evelyn grinned. "I know," she admitted. "I distracted your mother while Betty went looking for you. She thought the best remedy was to get you rip roaring drunk."

"She tried her hardest, God bless her heart," Sadie exclaimed through a short laugh. "While we were sitting together she told me that it was okay to let it hurt like hell. Because one day I'd wake up and I wouldn't hurt as badly and it would go on that way until the memories were bittersweet and I could see a future where it didn't hurt anymore."

"Was she right?"

Sadie squinted into the watery afternoon. "It was the best advice she ever gave me."

"I hate that she never had a funeral," admitted Evelyn in a low voice.

"So do I."

"How are you really doing?" Evelyn asked after a while, finally getting around to the heart of the matter. "It's been a pretty wild couple of weeks."

Sadie knew that Evelyn was referring to so many things. They'd talked sparingly about the cave-in and even less about the what-ifs that both women considered. Evelyn was certainly also referring to the good things in Sadie's life, to finally reconciling with Bucky and giving herself over to the stupefying love that nearly knocked her over every time he so much as looked at her. Outside of Bucky, Evelyn alone took one look at her friend and knew exactly what happened and read between the lines every time Sadie smiled to herself for no apparent reason.

"I honestly don't know. One minute I'm miserable and terrified and the next all I can think about is-" her voice dropped off.

"Dragging your handsome sergeant back to bed for another go-round?" Evelyn suggested, dropping her last shred of pretense.

"Pretty much," Sadie admitted, keeping her face resolutely forward.

Sadie heard the obnoxious smile in Evelyn's tone. "Well done. I'd assumed but I knew you'd rather face a firing squad than admit it outright."

Both women chuckled, acknowledging the absolute truth of her statement. "It's not really something one should go around touting to the world."

"Surely you don't regret it?"

Regret? Sadie drummed up the memory of Bucky waking her the next morning by pressing soft kisses to the top of her shoulder. His voice was wonderfully gravelly when he lamented leaving her after such a perfect night. She could picture him leaving her room and stopping at the end of the hallway to turn back and kiss her breathless one final time before disappearing to his room before anyone came looking for him. Regret never once entered her mind.

"Not in the least," she replied.

Evelyn giggled and spent the rest of the walk trying to bait Sadie into answering more questions to no avail. They wandered up to their quarters where Evelyn changed out of her Class As and into a civilian dress. She was bound for the hospital, one of the last places Sadie really wanted to be.

"Sadie?"

"Hmm?" Evelyn was sitting at the vanity, staring at Sadie's reflection in the mirror.

"Were you scared?"

Sadie's mind went back to the deafening booms, to the darkness, and the uncertainty. The inside of her elbow itched where she'd drawn her blood. Her heart tripped over a beat the same way Ian's had over and over. The confession came to her as easily as the tears that sprang up into her lower eyelids. "I was terrified."

Evelyn crossed the room and hugged Sadie close, letting loose her own teary flood. It was a long time before either woman let go.

X X X

A semi-permanent haze of smoke lingered in the front room of Castle Rock Pub. The varied assortment of patrons carried about their evenings with their beers and cigarettes, puffing away while discussing the latest news. The bartender poured drinks while he kept a close watch on a knot of non-regular GI's making a racket in one of the corner booths. The round tables at the front held the usual crowd of middle-aged men, married couples on a rare night out and some of the SSR staff who liked the quieter atmosphere of the front of the pub.

Through a set of glass doors to the back room, the smoke cleared but the noise level rose considerably. The back room at Castle Rock was a veritable who's who of the SSR from the famed Howling Commandos to the even more famous Howard Stark to the beautiful young women who staffed the bunker. The second bar in the back, though smaller than the front, was well stocked and constantly flowing to accommodate the demand. Only a handful of people smoked in the back room, including Howard Stark who chomped away at a fat cigar. He stood near a dartboard affixed to the wall and clapped his partner on both shoulders, giving him a friendly shake.

"Alright Buck, stay focused. All you need is a ten and those sorry sacks buy the next two rounds."

Bucky swallowed the impulse to point out that Howard was rich enough to buy the whole pub. The man already bought more than one round for the whole of the SSR that evening and besides, Morita and Doctor Dunn were the ones to make the bet. Morita seemed to think that giving Bucky a subpar partner would make a difference in the score, which worked well enough until it didn't. While Howard was absolutely rotten at throwing darts, he took the tasks of trash talk and morale very seriously but more importantly, Morita and Doctor Dunn weren't good enough together to match Bucky's aim. He gently shook away Howard's hands and took a sip of his beer, lining up his shot.

Out of the corner a flash of royal blue caught his eye. His eyes followed the pop of color to make out a royal blue dress that fit the owner to perfection. Bucky's throat dried up. He wondered if Sadie had any clue what she was doing to him wearing that blue dress as she drifted to the other side of the room to join her friends from the hospital. When she sat down she smoothed the skirt over her thighs and his knees gave just a little. There wasn't much that Bucky wouldn't have given to take her by the hand and drag her into the nearest dark corner available so he could lift her up and wrap those perfect legs around his waist.

A firm hand grasped his chin and forcefully turned his head back towards the wall. "The dart board is this way."

Bucky blinked stupidly at the dart board and then glanced at Howard who hovered somewhere between laughter and outright judgement. "Yeah, yeah sorry."

"Just throw the fucking dart, Barnes. Then you can go back to staring at your girl like a lovesick puppy."

Morita's taunt helped Bucky rather than hurt him. He prided himself on his expert marksmanship and that applied to every projectile he touched, whether it was his rifle or the dart in his hand. Bucky recalibrated his aim and before he threw he tipped his head back to Howard with a cocky grin stretched across his face.

"Hey, Stark. Are you thinking scotch? Because that's what I'm thinking."

Howard grinned. "Better start counting your pennies, boys."

Bucky threw his dart in a single, smooth motion and watched with satisfaction as the tip buried itself in the ten spot. He shook the hand that Howard offered, both men congratulating each other on their hard-earned victory. Howard set to work badgering Morita and Doctor Dunn to fetch the first of their two rounds but Bucky barely listened. He returned his glance to the table where Sadie still sat with her friends, grinning broadly while Evelyn wove a particularly animated tale.

At the moment, Sadie's smile alone was enough to test the limits of his patience. More than once during the evening, Bucky caught himself glancing at the clock to see how much time had passed and how much longer he would have to wait to whisk Sadie back to his room. There he could lock the door and make love to her until exhaustion took them or hunger drove them up for air, whichever came first.

The first twitch of wanting rose up within him. Bucky was quick to wrestle it down. Now was not the time or the place for that, nor was this night particularly appropriate when it came down to it. Despite the fairly cheerful mood of everyone at the pub, the truth remained that they were all there to share a drink in Gutierrez's honor. And thinking about sitting next to Sadie so he could undo her garter straps beneath the table was about as far from center as he could think of for this particular night. Bucky swallowed hard and tried to tear his eyes away from Sadie, but was doomed the second she raised her gaze to find him. She glanced up at him through her long eyelashes and when her red lips parted softly, his mind only tumbled deeper into the gutter. What wouldn't he give to feel her lips on his body? As if she could actually read his mind, Sadie raised an eyebrow, silently asking him if he was going to make it.

The answer to her unspoken question was highly debatable.

"Good God, Bucky. I know Nurse Reid is beautiful but you don't gotta stare at her like she's a slice of apple pie."

Howard sounded thoroughly amused by the whole thing. By Bucky's own estimation he was more than entitled to stare at Sadie however he wanted, but Howard still made a salient point that maybe toning it down was a good idea. Sadie, who had long since broken their gaze to answer one of her beckoning friends, carried on completely obliviously and Bucky followed her example. Howard held out a drink to him.

"Thanks." Bucky scanned the pub and latched onto a new thought to divert him from Sadie. "Where's Steve?"

Howard scowled. He pointed through the glass doors to the front of the pub. "Brooding, wasting his youth and good looks, mooning over Agent Carter instead of marching in here and kissing some fun into that woman. Take your pick."

Bucky snorted in laugher. "I'm going to go make Steve get off his ass." Draining the last of his beer, he left the glass on the high top table closest to him and took his scotch. Howard waved him off, already eyeing a couple of pretty girls. "Good luck with the locals."

Bucky passed through the crowd to the front of the pub. Steve raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement when Bucky pulled out the stool next to his and sat down. He turned over a steel tag in his fingers. Well, Howard had been wrong about one thing; Steve certainly wasn't pining for Peggy Carter at the moment, if Gutierrez's dog tags were anything to go off.

Not for the first time that week, Bucky noted the unusual pallor of Steve's face. The hazy golden glow in the pub didn't do him any additional favors either. Dark circles bruised the undersides of his eyes and he'd been eerily quiet all week long. Bucky didn't have to look far to discern that Steve wasn't sleeping and the reason why all boiled down to the tag in his hand. Corporal Gutierrez's shadow lingered over the whole of the Commandos all week long, as did Doc Holmes' official replacement on the aide team. Steve took the death particularly hard, as it was the first under his command.

They hadn't spoken much after the service, going straight to the bunker for a mission briefing that took all afternoon. Bucky leaned back in his seat, resting an elbow on the back. When Steve didn't immediately speak, Bucky took it as a sign to break the ice himself.

"So, back to Italy, huh?"

"Yeah," Steve sounded distracted and faraway. The topic of their upcoming mission should have brought Steve around. He obsessed over the job and their newest mission was no different. One of the last HYDRA factories left on the map, the complex sat in an alcove along Lake Orta in northwestern Italy.

"Can't say I missed it," he mused, thinking back to his rude introduction to the mainland in Salerno and every miserable event that happened thereafter.

The hint of a wry smile touched Steve's mouth. "At least the factory is away from most of the heavy fighting. We won't have to worry about the front advance or bombings."

That was a large blessing in Bucky's book. Not having to worry about those particular unpleasantries made missions infinitely easier. All week Bucky had been struggling with the idea of Sadie returning to the field with a new doctor at the lead of the aide team, all while the threat of attack loomed in the background. Knowing that no more V-2 missiles would fall on top of her head quelled some of his anxiety.

"Good, that means we can get in and out faster too. And it's just one less place for Schmidt and Zola to run and hide in."

"You're taking it well," observed Steve of Bucky's newfound cavalier attitude towards Arnim Zola.

"It's not easy," he stated. The anger still remained, simmering beneath the surface but Bucky made Sadie a promise he intended to keep. So when Peggy made it abundantly clear that the SSR's intelligence showed that Zola wasn't anywhere near the factory in Italy, Bucky cracked a joke and left it at that. A large part of Bucky certainly still wanted Zola dead but the drive wasn't as strong as before. There were better things to do with his life than shoot the man. "But things are better."

Steve took a long draw from his drink. "I noticed. Honestly I'm just glad you're back in Sadie's good graces again even if I don't want to know what you did to get there."

Buried between the lines of his statement was the confirmation that knew perfectly well what Bucky had done. But neither of them were going to say it and Bucky sure as hell was going to avoid _the_ lecture if he could help it. "I did what you suggested," he replied breezily before draining half his scotch in one go. "I groveled, apologized, and we came to a compromise."

"You're a terrible liar," grumbled Steve. Something akin to the old Steve reared his ugly head, taking on the jealous tone Steve tried his hardest not to use when it came to the parts of Bucky's life where he outdid his friend. Bucky pointedly ignored the sour connotation.

"Look, I'm happy to let you live in ignorance. All you have to do is not ask questions you don't want answers to."

That was as much of an answer as Bucky was willing to give Steve, but he got the message loud and clear. His frown deepened, reaching up to his eyes and wrinkling his forehead. "That's a damn fine way to ruin a woman's reputation, you know," Steve snapped, his mood continuing to plummet. "I would have thought that with—"

Bucky set his glass down hard. "Are we really gonna do this? You don't really think I'd do anything to—" he pinched the bridge of his nose to head off his frustration. "We're not kids. And frankly neither of us need you stepping in and acting like my mother or worse - hers."

The mere insinuation that Steve was mothering Bucky did the trick. Steve retreated from his moral high ground. "You know what? You're right. I think we're all better off if I continue to think of your girlfriend as a co-worker and a friend."

Bucky drained his scotch. "I think that's a damn fine plan, Rogers. Now how about you go back in there and raise a glass in Gutierrez's honor? Everyone's been asking for you."

Steve blew out a long sigh. He turned over the dog tag again. "I was actually gonna head out. I've still got some intel reports to read."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "The reports aren't going anywhere. You should really go in there for a while."

"Why don't you lead the toast? You're good at that sort of thing."

"Because I'm not their leader," Bucky said matter-of-factly. "Those guys in there don't just want you to lead them into battle, they want you to pick up the morale. We're all sitting here pretending like that last mission wasn't a shitshow but it was. And we need you to pick us back up."

Bucky signaled for the bartender, looking for one more drink to round out his night. Steve continued to examine Gutierrez's tag, waging a private war with his guilt. "What am I supposed to say? Sorry that a good man is dead? Or that Doc Holmes is down and out? I can't even look Dum Dum and Sadie in the eye, Bucky."

"For what? Something you couldn't control? They don't blame you; you're the only one who does. Don't be sorry, Steve. You being sorry does zip for everyone in there. You showing up and toasting to Luis and swapping stories we've all heard a hundred times? That's what matters."

Steve pursed his lips together. He leaned back in his bar stool and looked through the open doorway where he could see Dum Dum slapping Falsworth on the back, laughing around his cigar. A sling still held his elbow in place, but it would be gone by the time they went to Italy. Bucky could see the wheels turning behind Steve's eyes, going over the details ad nauseum.

"I just don't want to fail them."

"Then get off your ass and join them," Bucky counseled.

Steve remained dubious of the plan even as he got off his barstool, but he took Bucky's advice. As soon as he entered the backroom Falsworth and Dum Dum embraced his presence, pulling him into a conversation that would lead to many more. Satisfied that Bucky averted another small crisis, he started to work to get the bartender's attention again.

A hand touched his shoulder, accompanied by his favorite voice in the world. "First darts and then Captain America himself, you're just fixing everyone's problems tonight, aren't you?"

Sadie pushed Steve's chair aside to stand next to him. Bucky slid to the very edge of his barstool. "Looks that way. You got any problems? 'Cause apparently I'm on a roll tonight."

The arrival of Sadie also magically conjured up the bartender, who was now more than happy to fix two drinks. While they waited, she rested her elbow on the bar top and her chin in her hand.

"Aside from trouble sleeping? I'm right as rain, buck sergeant."

The golden opportunity Sadie presented him was just too much. She'd opened a door that begged him to walk right through and Bucky just couldn't help himself. "If you're having trouble sleeping you should stay with me. I'll help you get to sleep."

Bucky's grin widened when she coughed. "That's a terrible line!" She exclaimed through her shocked laughter. "Honestly buck sergeant, that was awful."

"Yeah, but did it work?"

The Sadie Reid he met at the NYPOE would have rolled her eyes and sent him packing. But his Sadie raised an eyebrow and deployed her own weapons, one hundred percent aware of what she was doing when she took her time sipping her drink. Bucky's mouth went dry as he watched the rim of her glass press into her full bottom lip. His fingers literally twitched, begging to smack the glass away so he could take its place.

"I dunno, why don't you ask me and find out?"

Bucky could have flirted with her all night like this and died a happy man. When he leaned down so she could hear him he kept his lips dangerously close to her ear but not touching. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Only if you behave yourself," she warned. The evil grin that tugged at his lips was uncontrollable. Bucky had no idea that one single creature could make him this happy but there he was, practically bursting at the seams.

"Now, where's the fun in that?" He wondered before nipping the edge of her ear. The shiver that slipped down Sadie's spine was so strong that he felt it. But when he moved to look down into her face he saw a different story. A shadow touched her eyes, stretching into the circles beneath them. He thought about what he'd said to Steve, that everyone was pretending nothing bad happened in Belgium. But Sadie couldn't pretend because she'd actually lived it. Having a full week to let the reality sink in took its toll on her. Bucky's mood shifted gears from playful to earnest, remembering what Steve said about Sadie pushing off her needs for his. Not tonight, he told himself. Not for as long as she needed him. "In all seriousness, Sade. Maybe you'll sleep better if you're not alone."

She pressed her cheek to his shoulder and to his surprise, wound an arm around his waist. A new degree of intimacy drew her into him. Bucky felt it in the way she turned her body towards his and widened her fingers over his side. Her touch felt strangely and wonderfully possessive, a sign to the world that he firmly belonged solely to her. Nobody had ever touched him the way she did and certainly no woman had ever sought comfort from him the way she did.

"I've been having awful nightmares," she murmured so only he could hear her. "I don't want to wake you."

Bucky left his scotch on the bar in exchange for cradling her head against his shoulder. "I have them too," he admitted, brushing his thumb lovingly past her cheek. "Maybe we can hold them off together."

"And if not?"

"Then I'll be right there to take care of you."

She lifted her eyes to his, swirling with astonishment and a dozen different emotions that Bucky couldn't even begin to untangle. Her lips parted once to reply but no words came to her. But that was Sadie, he reasoned as she traded more words for rising to the tips of her toes so she could kiss him full on the mouth instead. Gushing wasn't exactly her style; she knew how to make a thousand promises just by touching the side of his face and softening her mouth against his so he could take the lead. Bucky couldn't really remember his life before the war but that didn't matter much to him. His life began in earnest when she called his name at the NYPOE and refused to tell him where she was from. Sadie upended his world with the force of a hurricane, leaving his preconceived notions of love, romance, and devotion in tatters. Bucky swerved hard into the gale force winds, happily letting her reshape what it meant to give himself to another person.

When they parted she naturally moved back into her preferred spot at his shoulder. Contentment rolled off her in waves, crashing into his chest and filling him up. Bucky rested his chin on top of her head and for a wonderful minute the pub and everyone in it disappeared.

Howard shattered their reverie to drag them to the back where Steve led them in several toasts, first to Gutierrez and then to Doc Holmes, Dum Dum, and Sadie. The woman in question stayed at Bucky's side for the rest of the evening and held his hand when he led her back to his room. She fell asleep in his arms a while later. True to her word the nightmares came and true to his, Bucky soothed her until the bad images disappeared and she settled back into him. In the morning Bucky woke to a shaft of watery sunlight working around the shade in his room to fall across her peaceful face and naked shoulders. He lay next to her for a long while, twisting his finger in one of her curls and wondering what his life would have been like if they'd never met.

The only problem was, no matter how Bucky looked at the situation, he just knew that he'd been destined to meet Sadie Reid all along. There was no doubt in his mind that they were meant to find each other and they were meant to fall in love. All that was left now was to make it official and Bucky planned to do that as soon as humanly possible.

 **A/N: Next chapter finds the Commandos on a sort of mini-mission while in Italy and Sadie dealing with a trying patient. Expect a little more humor than normal and some fluff!**

 **Liked it? Loved it? Want me to start finally divulging more information about the sequel? I'd love to hear any and all thoughts! Much love – Kappa.**


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